Edward's Balomi
by triggerhappy.antagonist
Summary: A Collection Of Random Oneshots For Your Amusement. Please Note That They May Cause Seizures Or Brain Failure Due To The Extreme Amount Of Stupidity. You Have Been Warned! Recently Re-Edited.
1. Transmutation

**WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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**Transmutation**

Edward Elric stared down at the smooth, crimson stone resting in his gloved palm of his hand. He'd finally done it. After years of pain and suffering and travail, he'd finally completed his mission.

He'd finally obtained The Philosopher's stone.

Tears brimming in his eyes, Edward turned to face his little brother, who stood a few feet away from him, staring fixatedly at the stone. "You did it, brother…" Alphonse breathed, exhaling a tinny sigh. His voice gave way to many emotions (because a countenance of stone cannot hold an expression.)

"Of course. I promised I would, didn't I?" Edward replied virtuously.

Alphonse inclined his metal head. "Now we can set straight what has been damaged."

Edward brushed the tears from his eyes with the back of hand. He reached into his pocket and produced something, clutching it tightly in his fist. Alphonse tried to get a look at it, but his brother turned away before he could glimpse it.

Edward walked to the center of the room and stooped to sketch a transmutation circle on the cold ground. He let the stone and the mysterious item fall from his hand, then stood back. Hesitantly, he brought his hands up and clapped them together.

A luminous beam of blue appeared, momentarily blinding both brothers. Edward brought his hands down to slam against the ground, and the beam of light escalated into a brilliant glow that encased the entire room.

Suddenly, as quickly as it appeared, the glow dissipated, leaving only eerie darkness and a deafening silence.

Alphonse's optics adjusted to the sudden darkness. He gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position (why he was lying down in the first place was beyond him), and looked around for his brother.

"Brother, did you do it?" he asked, voice trill with excitement.

A strange cackling rang in Alphonse's.. metal.. ear things. He whipped around, only to face darkness. "Brother, was that you? Did you do it?" he called, his voice reverberating off the shadowed walls.

"Yes. Yes, I did it," Edward replied tearfully. He clapped his hands together, and the darkness slowly diminished to reveal the older Elric kneeling on the floor with his back to his brother.

"You… you restored my body?" Alphonse asked tearfully, and awaited his brother's confirmation.

Alas, it never came.

**--(Cue the needle-running-off-the-record-player sound effects.)--**

"Uhhh… was that my mission?" Edward said, blinking obtusely.

"Yes," Alphonse replied uncertainly. Doubt nibbled at the back of his mind.

Edward sifted his fingers through his blond hair. "Oh… well… umm…" he stammered incoherently.

Alphonse sighed. "Ed, what did you do?"

The golden-haired boy turned back to the transmutation circle, staring at it as if it would supply an answer. Curious, Alphonse walked over to where his brother stood and looked down at the ground. He saw the faded lines of the circle, a crumbling russet stone, and a questionable pink compound.

"Ed! You _didn't_!" Alphonse gasped, fixing his brother with the most appalled expression a suit of armor could permit.

Edward beamed with pride and stooped to pick up the strange substance. "Yes, Al. I did. I fused baloney and salami together and created balomi!"

Seconds later, Alphonse died. Edward never knew if it was due to the amount of stupidity that had tainted the air when he'd spoken, or if a bug had licked off his blood circle. Either way, Alphonse Elric was dead.

Edward never cried. Not even at his funeral. He knew that his special balomi could fill in Alphonse's place in his heart.

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**I Went Back And Edited This Chapter. The Spelling Was Abhorrent And The Grammar Was Just Atrocious. I Salvaged A Sum. I Should Really Contemplate Rewriting It Sometime. I Can Do So Much Better. Seriously.**


	2. Balomi

**WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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**Balomi**

The door to his office burst open. Roy Mustang didn't even flinch at the sudden noise, obviously used to it by now. He tore his eyes from the paperwork (Coughporncough) he was currently reading and looked up to face none other than the Fullmetal Alchemist himself.

"G'morning, Colonel," Edward greeted with unusual benevolence, fixing the Colonel with a chipper grin.

"What do you want, Fullmetal?" Roy asked hostilely, directing the young alchemist with a skeptical look, as if expecting him to pull out a gun at any moment.

Obviously, the golden-haired boy noticed the animus greeting and quirked an ocher brow. "What's stuck up your ass?" he questioned.

"A pinecone," Roy grumbled, running his hand over his tender rump.

Edward shook his head sympathetically and reached out to sift his gloved fingers through Roy's hair. "You poor man. Having to deal with those bullies every day must be killing you inside. I wish there was something I could do to help."

Roy twitched slightly, jerking away from Edward's touch. "Fullmetal… _you're_ the one who's bullying me, remember?" he said with just the _slightest_ hint of ire.

"Oh, that's right…" Edward murmured, twisting his fingers through his braid in embarrassment. Roy heaved a sigh and returned to his por— paperwork.

A tense silence washed over the room, only to be broken when Edward tentatively spoke up.

"You want some baloney?"

Roy furrowed a dark brow and gave the blond a quizzical look.

Edward reached into his coat pocket and produced a flaccid slab of raw meat. "You want some baloney?" he repeated, generously holding the meat out to the Colonel.

Roy blinked and shook his head. "No thanks, Ed. I don't like baloney."

"Oh," Edward tucked the slab back into his pocket. He reached into his other pocket and drew forth a second slab of raw meat. "You want some salami?" he asked.

Roy shook his head again. "I don't like salami."

"Oh." Edward tucked the salami back into his pocket and shoved his hand into trousers, fumbling around until he pulled out another slab of meat, this one an anomalous color of reddish-pink. "You want some balomi?" he asked.

Roy blinked. "Balomi?" he repeated.

Edward beamed and held the piece of meat up to the light, evoking it to shimmer. "Balomi," he echoed proudly.

The Colonel stared at the hunk of meat. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's my latest creation," Edward proclaimed, his golden eyes glittering in the light. "See, after I found The Philosopher's stone I used it to fuse baloney and salami together to create balomi!"

Roy donned a discombobulated expression. "What about Alphonse?"

Edward placed his hand over his chest. "The amount of stupidity that tainted the air was too much for him to bear. He died." He choked back a feigned sob.

The Colonel continued to blink and stare. "So you're telling me that you slaved your ass off… to fuse some _meat_ together?"

Edward nodded and stroked his balomi affectionately. "Yes, yes I did. And it was _worth_ it, I tell you! It was all _worth_ it!" he laughed, a borderline insane bark of mirth.

"…Right. Well, I was just hit with an unceremonious wave of nausea. If you don't mind, I'm going to go vomit my guts out. Feel free to look at my porn while I'm gone." Roy stood up from his seat and walked briskly off to the lavatories.

Edward blinked, watching the Colonel inquisitively as he left. "That guy has mental issues."

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**Yatta For Another Re-Edited Chapter Of **_**Ed's Balomi**_


	3. October Third, 1910

**WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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**October Third, 1910**

"What are you doing?"

Edward looked up into the onyx eyes of the Colonel. "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Edward grinned. "I'm writing the date I burned my house down, see?" He pointed to the scrawl of letters written in blue marker.

"Yes," Roy replied, "but why are you writing on your stomach?"

Edward blinked. "I'm not on my stomach, I'm on my feet."

_He must be on smack_, Roy thought. "No, Ed," he said slowly. "Why are you writing _on_ your stomach?"

Edward shrugged. "I lost my watch yesterday."

"Again?" Roy sighed. "Why is it so difficult for you to remember October third, 1910? Even I remember it!"

Edward fit the lid back on his marker. "October third, 1910? Is that your birthday?" he asked.

Roy shook his head. "No, Fullmetal, it's the day you burned down your house, remember?"

Edward looked up hopefully. "I have a house?" he squealed.

"No, Ed. You _had_ a house. You burned it down, remember?"

The blond looked thoughtful. "Really? When?"

Roy sighed. "October third, 1910," he replied.

Edward glanced down at his stomach. "I have that date written on my belly, you know," he said.

"Yes, Ed. I know."

"Is that your birthday?"

"No, it's the day you burned down your house."

"I have a house?"

"You _had_ a house. You burned it down when you were eleven."

"Really? When?"

"October third, 1910."

"Is that your birthday?"

"No, Fullmetal," Roy heaved an exasperated sigh. "Alright, I'm going to explain it to you very, very slowly, but I'm only doing it once, so listen carefully, okay?"

Edward nodded.

"Five years ago on October third, 1910 when you were eleven, you burned down your house, on October third, 1910, five years ago when you were eleven." Roy took a deep breath. "Do you understand _now?_"

Edward looked up and grinned tentatively. "Sorry, did you say something. I wasn't listening."

"You weren't listening? Didn't you hear a word I said?" Roy exclaimed.

Edward reached behind his shoulder to touch his braid thoughtfully. "Well, I think I heard you say something about eggs…" he trailed off.

The Colonel groaned. "No, Fullmetal, I never said anything about eggs. I was talking about the day you burned your house down."

Edward squealed. "I have a house?"

"No, Ed, you burned it down," Roy responded with ire. Edward shrugged and unscrewed the cap on his marker. He held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"What are you doing?"

"Smelling my marker," he replied, taking another whiff. Roy furrowed his brow and said nothing.

After several more inhalations of the marker, Edward screwed the cap back on and tucked it in the pocket of his trousers.

"You know, I like eggs. I don't care what anyone says," Edward mumbled.

Roy blinked.

"Well," Edward said, clapping his hands together. "I think I'll go back to my house now. Goodbye." he turned and headed for the door.

Roy groaned. "Ed, you don't have a house! You burned it down!" he exclaimed.

Edward stopped in mid-step and whipped around. "I have a house?"

"No, Ed. You _had_ a house. You burned it down five years ago."

"Really? When?"

"October third, 1910."

"Is that your birthday?"

"No, Ed, it's the day you burned your house down."

"I have a house?"

"You _had_ a house. You burned it down."

"Really? When?"

Roy twitched and grasped Edward's shirt, jerking it up to reveal the incomprehensible writing on his stomach. "There, see? October third, 1910. That's the day you burned your house down."

Edward looked down to where Roy was pointing. "Hey! Who wrote on my belly!" he yelled.

Roy deadpanned. "You did, Ed."

"Oh…" Edward observed the words. "October third, 1910? Is that your birthday?"

"No! It's the day you burned your house down!"

"I have a house?"

"You _had_ a house, but you burned it down!"

"Really? When?"

The Colonel grunted, poking Edward in the stomach. "O-c-t-o-b-e-r t-h-i-r-d n-i-n-e-t-e-e-n t-e-n!" he growled, punctuating the words by repeatedly prodding the boy's stomach.

Edward giggled. "Stop! That tickles!"

Roy tugged the boy's shirt down. "Okay, I've had enough of this game, Fullmetal. Please leave."

Edward grinned. Okay! Bye!" he bade cheerfully as he walked out the door.

Silence…

"Hey! Who wrote on my belly!"

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**I Swear, I Could Actually Feel My Brain Cells Dissipating While Editing This Chapter. The Utter Stupidity Displayed In Edward Is Simply Astounding.**


	4. Numa Numa

**WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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**Numa Numa**

"_Ma-ia-hii  
Ma-ia-hoo  
Ma-ia-ha  
Ma-ia-ha-ha,"_

Roy groaned.

"_Ma-ia-hii  
Ma-ia-hoo  
Ma-ia-ha  
Ma-ia-ha-ha,"_

"Fullmetal," Roy addressed the boy firmly.

"_Alo, salut, sunt eu, un haiduc,  
Si te rog, iubirea mea, primeºte fericirea."_

"Fullmetal…"

"_Alo, alo, sunt eu Picasso, _

_Þi-am dat beep, ºi sunt voinic,  
Dar sa ºtii nu-îþi cer nimic."_

Roy sighed and leaned over his desk, glaring down at the golden-haired boy who was currently lying on his office floor, fondling a lump of clay and singing that irking Romanian song. "Edward, be quiet. I'm trying to work."

Edward looked up at him from his position on his back, his ocher eyes exuberant. "Was I bothering you?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He returned his attention to the lump of clay, molding it with his fingers into a semblance of a prehistoric amphibian.

Assuming he would remain silent, Roy leaned back in his chair and returned to his paperwork.

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei."_

"Fullmetal…"

"_Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

"Edward, I told you to be quiet!"

Edward pouted. "But I _love_ that song!"

"Sing it later, I'm trying to do my paperwork."

"_So?_"

"So I can't do it if you're singing. It's hard for me to concentrate."

"Fine," Edward grunted, mashing two pieces of clay together.

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"_Te sun, sº-îþi spun, ce simt acum,  
Alo, iubirea mea, sunt eu, fericirea."_

"Ed…"

"_Alo, alo, sunt iaraºi eu, Picasso,  
Þi-am dat beep, ºi sunt voinic,  
Dar sa ºtii nu-iþi cer nimic."_

"Edward!"

Edward glanced up at the Colonel, innocence painted on his face. "Yes?"

"I told you to be quiet!"

"No," the blond contradicted. "You told me to make you a clay hamburger."

"What? I never said that!" Roy started.

"Yes, you did. You said, 'Make me a clay hamburger, Maria.'"

"Your name isn't Maria!"

"It isn't?" Edward quirked an ocher brow. "Then why do I have _this?_" He held up a metal name plate with the word _Maria _etched in it.

"You stole that from Second Lieutenant Maria Ross!"

Edward stared at the name plate, then tossed it aside. "And you tell me this _now!_ After I got the name _tattooed_ on my chest."

The Colonel deadpanned. "At least now we know who stole Lieutenant Ross's name plate…"

Edward got to his feet and propped himself on Roy's desk, extending his hand benevolently. "Do you want a clayburger?" he asked.

Roy stared down at the subfusc slab of clay. "No, Ed. You can have it."

The young alchemist grinned and stuffed the clay hamburger in his mouth. Roy wrinkled his nose in repugnance as he watched his subordinate chew the substance slowly before swallowing it. "Mmm, non-edible substance, " Edward murmured, wiping his mouth with his braid.

Roy blinked, then shook his head and turned back to his paperwork.

"Oh, great. I ate my clay! Now I'm bored." Edward moaned.

"Roll around on the floor for a while," Roy suggested, absently gesturing with his hand.

Edward flopped flaccidly on the floor and began to roll himself around in a circle with his feet.

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

"Ed…"

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

"Eeeeedwaaaaard!" Roy groaned, rubbing his temples.

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

Roy reached into his desk and produced a stapler. "Fullmetal, if you be quiet I'll let you play with my stapler," he bribed, offering the stapler to the blond.

Edward squealed and snatched up the stapler. "Wow, stapler!"

Roy sighed and went back to his paperwork. "That should keep him occupied for a while."

**--Some three minutes later--**

"_Te sun, sº-îþi spun, ce simt acum,  
Alo, iubirea mea, sunt eu, fericirea.  
Alo, alo, sunt iaraºi eu, Picasso,  
Þi-am dat beep, ºi sunt voinic,  
Dar sa ºtii nu-iþi cer nimic."_

"Edward! Not _again!_"

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

Roy banged his head against his desk. "What happened to the stapler?" he asked.

Edward paused. "I ate it!"

"You _ate_ it?"

"Yes. It was delicious!"

"It was a _stapler!_"

"Got anymore staplers?" Edward asked. Roy shook his head, and Edward just shrugged in return.

"Okay, then. _Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

"Ed."

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

"Edward!"

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

Roy groaned and stood from his seat. "Alright, I give up! You win, Ed! You hear? You _win!_"

Edward wasn't listening. He was too busy making up his own dance routine to match the song.

"_Vrei sa pleci dar numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa iei,  
Numa, numa, numa iei.  
Chipul tau ºi dragostea din tei,  
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai."_

Roy got down on his knees. "God, help me!" he cried.

Edward danced around him, throwing his paperwork in the air like confetti.

"_Ma-ia-hii  
Ma-ia-hoo  
Ma-ia-ha  
Ma-ia-haa."_

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_**Dragostea Din Tei **_**(A.k.a., **_**Numa Numa**_**), Belongs To The Romanian Band, O-Zone.**


	5. Johnny The Turkey

**WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**-- --**

**Johnny The Turkey**

"Fullmetal!"

Edward looked up, "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Makin' gravy," Edward replied.

"In my _bathtub?_"

"…Yes."

Mustang groaned and slapped his palm against his brow. "I never should have let you use my washroom. I knew it was a bad idea!"

Edward shrugged, dipping a large stick into the bathtub and stirring the thick, brown liquid inside. "It's your fault, Mustang. Didn't Al ever tell you to never leave me alone unattended for more than two minutes?"

"No, he didn't, Mustang murmured.

Edward stuck his finger in the goop. "Yup, almost done!" he announced, wiping his finger on his trousers.

"Why are you making gravy in the bathtub, anyway?" Mustang asked, leaning over the blond's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the unpleasant smelling aqueous solution in the tub.

"'Cause there's a turkey in the toilet."

"A _turkey?_" The colonel repeated. He walked over to the toilet and lifted the lid, revealing a large, motionless turkey that had been jammed inside.

"Ed, what happened to it?"

Edward scowled. "He called me a bitch, so I drowned him."

"He… called you a bitch?"

"Yes! Can you believe it? What an awful, awful reptile!"

"Ed, a turkey is a bird."

"Really? Then why is it in the water?"

Mustang deadpanned. "Because you drowned it."

"Really, Mustang. Is that your best excuse?" Edward asked, dropping the stirring stick and getting to his feet, scrubbing his hands on the seat of his trousers. He walked over to Mustang and stood beside him.

"So what are we staring at?"

Mustang pointed to the dead turkey.

Edward's face contorted in disgust. "Ugh! What the hell, Colonel? Why did you drown a poor, innocent walrus?"

"It's not a walrus, Ed. It's a turkey. And I didn't drown it, _you_ did." Mustang responded.

Edward pushed up his sleeve and reached down to fish the dead bird out of the toilet. "This will go well with my gravy," he said as he dragged the turkey to the tub and heaved it into the water.

"There! Now we can feast!"

The turkey bobbed and floated around in the dark muck, leaving a trail of feathers behind it. Undistinguishable dollops of brown compound formed in the mess of gravy.

Mustang was forced to look away. The revolting mess was evoking turmoil in his gut.

"Oh, cool! Look at the frog, Colonel! He's doing the backstroke! 'Atta boy, Johnny!" Edward exclaimed.

Bile rose in Mustang's throat. He swallowed it painfully and gave Edward a stern look. "Edward, would you please take that turkey and leave? You're making me sick!"

"Colonel! Don't talk to my son that way!" Edward scolded.

"Ed, it's a _turkey!_"

"It's my son Johnny, and I want you to treat him with respect, even though he resembles a disemboweled German shepherd, he's still my son!"

Mustang thread his hand through his hair. "Ed—"

"Would you like some dinner?" Edward interrupted brusquely, pointing to the bathtub.

Mustang shook his head fiercely. "No, thanks."

The younger alchemist shrugged and stooped over the bathtub, lowering his head into the brown muck. "Mmm, you don't know what you're missing— yuck!" He jerked his head out of the water and flailed rapaciously, sending a spray of russet droplets in every direction.

"Ugh! It's _horrible!_ That's the worst pie I ever ate!" he shouted.

Mustang wiped the gravy stains off his uniform. "Which is why I declined," he stated.

Edward scowled at the bathtub. "Great, now what do I do? I can't let this gravy go to waste!"

"Why don't you throw it out?" Mustang suggested.

"How am I supposed to do that? Just scoop it up and toss it in the trash? It's _liquid_, Colonel. I can't grasp it!"

"Why not use a bucket?"

"Johnny has bucketophobia. It might trigger his epilepsy."

"Ed… Johnny is _dead,_" Mustang said firmly.

Edward's eyes widened and he pointed a shaky finger at the colonel. "You _murdered_ him, didn't you?"

"What? _No!_"

"Liar! I _saw_ you! You took your bazooka and shot him! I have witnesses!"

"I don't even _own_ a bazooka!"

"Stop lying! I know you're lying! You're a liar, and liars lie!"

Edward paused. "Heh, I just used the word _lie_ like, five times in one sentence."

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Nevermind, Ed. What are you going to do with the gravy?"

Edward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Take… a bath in it?" He squealed. "Oh, yes! Yes! Sounds like fun!" he slipped off his shirt, trousers and boots and tossed them aside.

"Edward, don't! You're just going to make a bigger mess!" Mustang warned. Alas, his shouts fell upon deaf ears.

"Look out, Johnny!" Edward cried as he leaped into the bathtub, causing a large wave of gravy and feathers to erupt. Mustang shrieked and covered his face as the wave descended upon him, drenching him thoroughly.

"Edward!"

"Looky! Johnny's surfing! Wow, what an incredible seal!"

"Ed, for God sake! He's a freaking dead turkey! He can't even _move!_"

"Oh, shove it you obnoxious pile of elephant feces!"

"What did you say?" Mustang said gravely, shooting a glare at Edward.

Edward squeaked and pointed an accusing finger at the dead, floating turkey. "It was Johnny!"

The colonel twitched. "Don't play games with me, Fullmetal. I know it was you. That turkey is _dead!_"

Enraged, Johnny hopped out of the bathtub. "What did you call me?"

Mustang's eyes expanded. "What the hell?"

Johnny walked over to Mustang and gripped the scruff of his shirt, tugging him down until he was eye level with the turkey. "You got something to say to me?" he asked, bitch-slapping the colonel with his wing.

"W-what the hell…!" Mustang repeated obtusely as he stared at the suppose-to-be dead turkey. "But.. but you're… you're dead!"

"You wanna bet?" Johnny replied, extracting a butcher knife out of his… secret pocket.

Mustang shrieked, wriggling out of Johnny's grasp and bolting out the door, flailing his arms.

The turkey was hot on his heels, baring his knife precariously. "Hey, come back here and face me like a man!"

"Help! Help! The turkey is after me! The turkey is after me!"

"Hold still so I can make a clean cut! I don't want to mess up these nice floors!"

"Help me, Jesus! Help me, Spiderman! Smite him with your webs!"

"Mwahahahahahahahaha!"

"Save me!"

Edward laughed. "Oh, God. This is funnier than that time the dead fetus went after him with a mallet."

-- --

**I Got The Idea For This Oneshot From A **_**Simpsons**_** Episode, In Which Homer Apologizes To Marge For Making Gravy In The Bathtub. I Hope You Enjoyed It.**


	6. Diet Coke N Mentos

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Edward opened the door to Colonel Mustang's office and stepped in.

"Heeeeey Mustang!." He greeted, giving the raven-haired man a cute/psycho smile.

"Hello Edward, what brings you here this fine morning?" The Colonel returned the greeting.

"Weeeeeell," Edward reached into his jacket and pulled out a small paper bag. "I was looking for '_I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!' _in the fridge and I happened to come across this bottle of Diet Coke-"

"Let me guess," Mustang interrupted sourly "you're going to wait until I fall asleep, shake the bottle then spray it all over my face and drench me in the sugary liquid."

Ed blinked. "Well, no…but that sounds _so_ good!"

"Oh, then please do continue," Mustang waved his hand nonchalantly.

"Right, so I saw the bottle of Diet Coke, and I thought '_Now if only I had some Mentos,_' and the next thing I know this huge-ass tube of Mentos appears!" Ed stuck his hand in the bag and pulled out a two-foot-long tube of Mentos.

Mustang stared at the mints curiously. "It just.._appeared?_ Are you sure you didn't just pull it out of your _ass?_" he asked sarcastically.

Ed shook his head. "There's no more room in there, maybe if I moved my suitcase to one side, and flipped those porno magazines over…naaah, it won't fit. Well, it might fit in the storage room, but it's so cold in there they might freeze! And maybe…no…" Ed's rambling turned to mumbles.

"I was being sarcastic, Ed." The Colonel deadpanned.

Ed rubbed the back of his head. "Well, anyway, I took the Mentos and the Diet Coke, shoved them in a bag and came here!"

"I see," Mustang dipped his head, "please do explain why."

Ed gave him a quizzical look. He held up both the Mentos and the Diet Coke. "Dude, are you mute? Diet Coke + Mentos **APOCALYPSE!**"

The Colonel finally caught on. "Sweet! Let's go do it!" He leapt out of his seat, grabbed Ed by the braid and dragged him outside.

**-------LINE-----------LINELINE------------LINE-------LINE-----**

Mustang set the Diet Coke on the ground and carefully flipped off the lid. "Ok, it's all set, hand me the Mentos please!"

Ed jumped excitedly and shoved the tube of Mentos into Mustang's hand. Mustang ripped the wrapping off of one end and flipped it upside down on his hand to allow a fair amount of mints to slide through.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked impatiently.

"I'm making sure all the Mentos will slide in. We want to create the biggest freaken' **APOCALYPSE!** ever, right?"

Ed nodded his head. The Colonel slid the Mentos back into the tube and stood up.

"You ready for this?"

Ed nodded. "Yup!"

"Promise you won't scream?"

"Yup!"

Mustang smiled. "Ok, here goes…" he advanced toward the Diet Coke bottle, then halted suddenly.

"Oh, and you remember our story right? If the entire world is overcome by chaos?"

Ed beamed, showing off his pearly teeth. "Yup! If the entire human race is doomed…it was my fault."

Mustang patted him on the head affectionately. "Good boy. Alright, here we go!"

He stepped forward and stooped, flipping the Mentos tube upside down over the Diet Coke and releasing the round mints into the pop. Instantly, the liquid erupted from the bottle in a flurry of white, foamy fizz. It shot up atleast 50 feet and splayed in every direction, drenching everything it touched with sticky bubbles.

Ed and Mustang ran in circles screaming hysterically, they're bodies covered in sticky foam.

"You bastard! Why the Hell did you put all the Mentos in simultaneously?"

"Why are you blaming _me?_ It's _your_ freaken' Mentos!"

"You said you could handle it!"

"You should have given me clearer instructions!"

"I thought I did! Set the Coke on the ground; drop a few Mentos in, back away! How the Hell did you turn 'A few' into '_The whole fckin' tube'_?"

"Yeah well…your Mom!"

"…What?"

The Diet Coke/Mentos (Lets just call it Diet Mentos) volcano continued to erupt. It should have begun to slow down by now, but instead it was gushing out faster and more violent.

Ed tugged his hood over his sticky, damp blonde hair. "We need to find shelter!" he called to the Colonel. "If this keeps up we'll dorwn!"

"Don't you mean _drown_?" Mustang asked in slight amusement.

"Yeah, but the Author misspelled it and was too lazy to correct it!"

The raven-haired man laughed, an act that provoked Ed. Was he the _least_ bit concerned for his safety?

"You imbecile! You're gonna be _killed!_ **DUCK AND COVER!**"

Mustang yelped and dropped the ground and began rolling around like a lunatic on crack.

Ed smacked his forehead. "You idiot! I said **Duck and cover!** Not **Duck and roll!**"

Mustang leapt to his feet and began to run around in circles. Just when Ed thought he couldn't get any stupider, he stopped, dropped and began to roll again.

Ed groaned. "No! Stupid, I said **Duck and cover**, not **Stop, Drop and Roll!** Besides, you're supposed to Stop, Drop, Cover-your-face-with-your-hands, do the hokey-pokey, reenact Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' _then_ roll!"

The Diet Mentos volcano was becoming increasingly aggressive. The foamy bubbles dropped like acid rain, combining with the carbonated liquid and soaking the earth in a puddle of sticky-ness!

A particularly large dollop of Diet Mentos falling at a speed of 9,997 kilometers per hour descended upon Ed's head, knocking him out the moment it hit.

"Oh no! Ed!" Mustang cried. He disregarded the whole "**Drop, flop and order Pizza-Pizza**" thing he was currently working on a rushed to his subordinates side.

"Oh my God! Ed, I'm so sorry! I was so busy ordering an extra large pizza with pepperoni and anchovies and mushrooms and pork and pineapple and pickles and lamb-chop and Charlie horse and onions and cheese and ham and Tom Cruise and meatballs and M&Ms and Eminem and peppers and olives and bacon and the guy on the Quaker Oatmeal box and peanut butter and bananas and beets-dipped-in-uber-fckin'-hot-fudge that I forgot to warn you about the giant deadly drop about to descend upon you!"

Mustang held onto Ed's sticky little hand and cried into his chest, totally oblivious to the fact that enormous Diet Mentos drops that were 3 times bigger than the one that (_almost_) killed Ed were now plummeting toward the Earth.

A tall, skater-like man appeared out of nowhere and bolted towards the Colonel, trying hard to avoid the life-threatening drops.

"Colonel! Colonel Roy Mustang!" the person called as he halted in front of the raven-haired man. Mustang looked up at him with blood-shot eyes.

"W-Who are you?" he asked as he wiped the sleeve of his uniform across his face.

The man pointed to himself and smiled. "I'm jo' Very-Hairy-Fckin'-God-Brothah!"

Mustang furrowed a dark brow. "Don't you mean _Fairy God Mother_?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "No, bro, I mean Very-Hairy-Fckin'-God-Brothah! Word yo! Fo' shizzle!"

Mustang blinked. "..Right, and you are here because?"

VHFGB (Very-Hairy-Fckin'-God-Brothah) beamed and gestured towards Ed. "Yo I seen wot yo' done ta yo' brothah man! Tha' ain't coo'! Ya smoked ta poor mutha-f!"

Mustang tried futilely to comprehend what VHFGB was trying to say. Was he speaking in Portuguese or something?

VHFGB pointed towards the Diet Mentos volcano (Which was _still_ erupting) "Ya know wot joo have ta do, ai? Jo' gottah plug up dat crazy coke! Fo' shizzle!"

Mustang caught the word 'Plug'. "Plug it? With what?" he asked.

VHFGB made dramatic signals with his hands. "I don' know! Jo' think a' somethin' bro! I gotta hit da trail yo! Word!"

**POOF!** He disappeared. Mustang eyed the spot he'd just been standing in.

"What the Hell was that? What am I supposed to plug? _WHAT?_"

He rubbed his temples and probed his brain for answers. Finding none, he decided to do the only humane thing possible.

Dropping Ed's hand to the ground, Mustang got to his feet and walked over to the Diet Mentos volcano. Grasping the clasps of his uniform, he tugged down his pants and underwear, then turned around and sat on the Diet Coke bottles' spout.

The foamy bubbled pushed against his butt, begging to be let free. The pressure was incredible! Mustang clenched his fists tightly and pushed back with all his might. He would not let the bubbles win! He would beat them at their own game! He would release a bubble of his own.

Mustang's face began to turn an odd shade of violet. The muscles in his buttocks strained as he pushed with all his might, until…

He let out the most _enormous_, most _ear-splitting_, most _horrendous_ fart ever ripped on earth!

Mr. Rogers swore he could feel the rumble all the way from Make-Believe Land!

Electricity shut down all over Central, Xenotime, Lior and Gotham city...

But atleast the bubbling had stopped. The Diet Mentos volcano had been slain! **THREE CHEERS FOR THE MIGHTY BLACK-JACK DEALER AT CASINO-RAMA!**

**-------LINE-----------LINELINE------------LINE-------LINE-----**

To say the Military was confused is an understatement. They were downright _baffled!_ Exactly 3 hours after the incredible foamy explosion (The one they called Foamicane Billy-Bob) an exhausted and very sticky Colonel Roy Mustang limped through the doors of Central with an even stickier unconscious Edward Elric on his back and an empty bottle of Diet Coke in hand.

Supposedly, he made it halfway to the infirmary before collapsing, either that or someone tripped him for their own selfish pleasure and he used his head to stop the fall. The Hospital was called and both man and dwarf and Diet Coke bottle were taken to the Central Hospital.

After the Hospital staff un-stuck them, they announced that all 3 were unharmed…ish. The man suffered from a broken pelvis and strained buttock muscles, the dwarf had a minor concussion and just recently had his eye-lids unstuck. The Diet Coke bottle, who appeared to have suffered the most damage, did not survive. The people were heartbroken. A funeral will be held for the bottle on November 3rd at 2:20 pm. Sandwiches will be served, a Grammy award for the first 40 people!

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**This Was Definitely The Most Mind-Boggling Fanfic I've Ever Typed. I Don't Know What Possessed Me To Write It (Oh, Wait, Yes I Do. That Whole Diet Coke + Mentos Thing)**

**About Halfway Through I Began To Experiment With Bold, Italic And Underlines, Sorry If It Confuses You. I Hope You Enjoyed This…Well, I Wouldn't Call It A Fanfic, It's Much To Bizarre. This…Overly-Anomalous-Creation-Of-Mine! Yes, That Will Do.**


	7. Stupid Teeth

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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Ed barged into Colonel Mustang's office.

"Hellooooooo Mr. M! How's your ass?" he asked in an obnoxious booming voice. Mustang groaned and leaned over his desk to glare at Ed.

"My ass is cheeky Ed. Just cheeky." He replied sourly. Ed gave him a large, over-zealous smile.

"Guess what? I got my stupid teeth pulled out."

Mustang furrowed his brow. "What? What are stupid teeth?"

Ed rolled his eyes, as if the Colonel had just said something really daft. "Duh! Stupid teeth!" he replied, pointing to his mouth.

"I still can't comprehend what you're saying," Mustang replied. Ed groaned and once again pointed to his teeth.

"Stupid teeth! Teeth that are stupid! You know…some people go to the Dentist to get their wisdom teeth removed, well I already got mine removed 2 years ago, so the teeth the Dentist pulled out this morning must have been my stupid teeth."

The Colonel deadpanned. Was the FullMetal Alchemist really _that_ stupid?

"Ah, stupid teeth, I get it." He replied, not wanting to provoke the blonde. "Is that all you wanted to tell me? Are you going to leave now?"

Ed laughed and shook his head. "Like _Hell_ I will! And leave you here, all alone, with no one to drive you to suicide? Face it Mustang, without me you wouldn't be standing on the edge of insanity right now!"

The Colonel blinked. "Edward, I believe it's _you_ who is currently standing on the edge of insanity. I, however, am completely sane." He gave the youth a smug look.

Ed shook his head. "That's not what your therapist says," he responded.

**----LINE-------LINELINE-----LINE----------LINE--------------- **

"What're you doing?"

"Signing this form."

"Why?"

"Because it says '_Sign Here_'"

"How do you know you're supposed to sign your name?"

"Because it also says '_Your Signature_'"

"I think that's an insult…"

"No, Ed, it's not an insult."

"Oh…" Ed loomed over the Colonel's desk, his blonde bangs brushing against the paper. His feet were off the ground and he was now leaning his full weight against the desk.

"Why do you sign your signature and not mine?" he asked. The Colonel untangled his pen from the golden locks for the umpteenth time as he replied,

"Because you are my subordinate, and I am your superior,"

"For some bizarre reason, I get the feeling that you just said something raunchy." Ed wrinkled his face in disgust and stuck out his tongue.

The Colonel exhaled slowly, then reached into his desk and pulled out a pack of brand-new sharpies and some pieces of paper.

"Here, why don't you go draw a picture of the Homunculi having a mass orgy." He shoved the items into the blonde's hands and shooed him away.

Ed pouted but obediently took the items and flopped onto his belly on the floor. He ripped open the pack of sharpies and slid them onto the floor.

"Wow! Look at all the sharpies! Are they smellable?"

Mustang shook his head. "No, and don't you _dare_ get high off of them again! I nearly got arrested for what you did to that poor octopus!"

"Ugh, _men_!" Ed grumbled. "So over-dramatic! And that octopus _liked_ having the melted chocolate licked off his-"

"_Ed!_" Mustang interrupted sharply. "Just draw!"

**----LINE-------LINELINE-----LINE----------LINE--------------- **

Mustang was about to sign his 34th form when a bunch of colorful papers were shoved into his face.

"Look! Look what I drew!" Ed cried excitedly, motioning to the pictures. The Colonel murmured and ripped the drawings from his face and held them at arms length.

"See? See?" Ed held up various pictures and explained what he had drawn.

"Here's a picture of Envy and Greed eating plums! And here's one of me beating you with a rubber chicken…Oh! And here's one of you in your maternity dress! Isn't it beautiful?"

Mustang stared at the doodle that appeared to be a fat man with black hair who was wearing a hideous pink dress.

"Oh yes…very wonderful." He smiled weakly and swore to torch that drawing later.

Ed squealed happily. "And here's a picture of me with rabies! Remember when I had rabies?"

The Colonel nodded and tried desperately to force the image out of his head. "Yes Ed, I remember."

Ed scooped up a handful of crumbled papers and tossed them into the air. "Let's celebrate!" he cried.

"Celebrate what?"

"That I don't have rabies anymore!"

"Why would we celebrate that? It didn't affect you in any way -Besides the mouth-foaming, twitching and constant biting."

Ed paused to think. "Really? I _bit_ someone? Who?" he questioned.

"Well, numerous people," Mustang replied. "Off the top of my head; Me, Sciezska, Your Father, Your teacher, Black Hayate, Ronald McDonald, George Washington, Hawkeye, Toucan Sam, 3 of the Happy Treehouse Friends, The Lucky Charms guy, E.T., Alf, Shou Tucker, Indiana Jones, That whale from Marineland, Trigger-Happy Retard, Elton John, James Bond, Fred Flintstone, Babe Ruth, Bambi's Mother, J.R.R Tolkien, Harry Potter, Gollum, Mark Twain, Godzilla, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gluttony, Scar, Mickey Mouse, Anne Of Green Gables, The Pillsbury Dough guy, and several other non-important people."

When Mustang received no reply, he leaned over his desk, only to see Ed sound asleep in his little nest of crumbled papers.

"Atleast now I can get some work done," he mumbled and he picked up his pen –which now had strands of golden hair tangled in it- and proceeded to finish his paperwork.

**----LINE-------LINELINE-----LINE----------LINE--------------- **

**Well, That Was Bizarre o.O I Wasn't Really Thinking When I Typed This One. It Was 4:30am, I Was Sugar-High And I Kept Thinking About Mustang In A Maternity Dress (Seriously, There's Something Wrong With My Brain) I'm Beginning To Think That Ed Has A.D.D… Anyway, I Hope You Enjoyed This Chapter!**


	8. LunchTime

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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The notorious ringing of the clock on his wall signified that it was 12:00. Colonel Mustang awoke from his peaceful nap and leapt over his desk in a comical fashion.

"Yabba-dabba-doo!" he cried as he flung open his door and ran down the long, narrow hallway.

"_Mustang, Colonel Mustang! He's the greatest guy in history!_" The Colonel sang as he slipped on the polished floors.

"_From the town of Central, he's about to hit a blonde chibi!_ …AAAAHHHH!" Mustang screamed as he collided with Edward Elric, sending both of them sprawling.

"Mustaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!"

Mustang's head shot up. "Augh! Flintstones!" he cried, covering his face with his hands.

"…What the Hell?" he heard a familiar voice say. Mustang carefully peeled his hands away from his eyes and took in his surroundings.

"Oh…it was only a dream." He sighed in relief and slumped back in his chair, preparing to continue his little snooze.

"Hey! Don't go back to sleep you idiot! It's lunchtime!" that oh-so-horrible voice shouted in his ear. The Colonel groaned and sat upright in his chair. Obviously, with this lunatic around he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep.

"What do you want, Edward?" he asked wearily, glaring at the blonde Alchemist disdainfully. Ed gave the Colonel his trademark over-zealous psycho-smile.

"It's lunchtime! Come on, let's go get some lunch!" Ed tugged on his superior's uniform sleeve, as if attempting to drag him from his chair and out the door.

"Awww, can't I just sleep Ed?" Mustang pleaded. "Why don't you go eat lunch alone?"

Ed pouted. "But you're _supposed_ to be my baby-sitter! And that means you have to supervise me at all times, and tolerate my inevitable disrespect towards everyone! And as I am known to be an uncooperative, obsequious youth you must act as my confidant and do as I say! You imprudent, incompetent _fool!_ **NOW GET UP!"**

Ed bitch-slapped Mustang and proceeded to tug on his uniform and yell obscenities.

Mustang groaned, not even bothering to attempt to comprehend what the blonde had just said. He hauled himself to his feet, grabbed Ed by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down the hall towards the cafeteria.

**----LINE-------LINELINE-----LINE----------LINE--------------- **

The doors to the cafeteria swung open, and a hyper-active Ed ran in, followed by a very lethargic Colonel Mustang.

"Ooh! Oooh! What's for lunch today, eh? Anything good?" Ed shouted as he snatched up a tray and over-looked the vast amount of food placed on the buffet table.

"Don't like that, don't like that, hate that, dislike that, don't like that…" Ed proclaimed as he pointed to random dishes. Mustang walked up behind Ed, picked up a tray and began to serve himself.

"For God's sake Ed!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "There must be _something_ you like here!"

Ed gave the food a second glance. "No, I don't think so- Hey! Is that _baloney_ I see?" he scurried to the end of the table and peered into a large plate full on various cold meats.

"Yes! It _is_ baloney! Hallelujah!" Ed grabbed a handful of the pink meat and tossed it onto his plate. Mustang watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"Baloney is better than nothing," he remarked as he dished some salad onto his tray.

Ed ran over to the nearest unoccupied table and sat on the end. "Hey Mustang! Are you finished yet? You're not warming your ass on the scrambled eggs again, are you?" Ed yelled.

Mustang hunched his shoulders in embarrassment as the room rippled with laughter. He quickly snatched up a fork and knife and scurried over to the table Ed was sitting at, taking a seat across from him.

"Edward, you _idiot!_ Keep your big mouth shut!"

**----LINE-------LINELINE-----LINE----------LINE--------------- **

Mustang finished off his last spoonful of eggs and set his spork down. He picked up his napkin and delicately wiped off his lips while observing the blonde Alchemist.

Edward hadn't eaten anything. He'd spent the entire time playing with his baloney, making houses and baloney people out of it and shoving it in his pants for that cold, damp sensation.

"Edward," The Colonel addressed the youth in a serious manner. "Are you going to eat your baloney or are you just going to screw around with it?"

Ed giggled. "Of course I'm not going to eat it! I'm saving it for something…special." More giggles. Mustang eyed the boy suspiciously, pondering what he was planning in that messed-up mind of his.

"Alright, as long as you don't-" Before he could finish his sentence, Ed scooped up his baloney, leapt onto the table and began forcefully hurling it at the Fuhrer's head.

"You bastard! You stupid shit! How do you like that, eh? That's for stealing and eating my Flintstones vitamins, you narcissistic piece of crap!"

The Fuhrer cried in pain when the baloney came in contact with his head. He made dramatic dying sounds and fell from his seat and onto the floor, where he lay twitching and acting…over-dramatic, like the drama queen he is.

Mustang gawked as Ed continued to cuss at the Fuhrer and pelt him with baloney. Breda and Fuery rushed to the Fuhrer's side and began to perform CPR. Someone started to scream hysterically about the Apocalypse, another person leapt out of their seat and ran into a wall.

Ed cackled evilly and ripped off his shirt and scrunched it into a ball to hurl at the Fuhrer's secretary. "Eat my shirt, bitch!" he screamed.

Havoc jumped out of his seat and ran over to Ed's table. He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a small, tight straight-jacket.

"Colonel, catch!" he called, tossing it to Mustang. When he was sure The Colonel had caught it, he crouched low and pounced on the blonde Alchemist.

Ed screamed as something heavy rammed into his back and knocked him to the floor. He began to kick, scream and punch wildly in an attempt to break free, but Havoc had a firm grip on him.

"You lunatic! You're gonna get us all fired!" Havoc cried as he scooped up the struggling blonde and tried to keep him still. Mustang rushed forward and began to strap Ed into his straight-jacket.

"I _knew_ you weren't ready for this Ed! I should have listened to my porn-infected brain!" Mustang scolded once he'd secured Ed's jacket.

Once Ed was unable to use his arms he proceeded to calm down. He was missing both boots (Which were now flung across the room) and his hair was disheveled. For some odd reason, bubbly foam was leaking out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes were twitching slightly.

"Zhorry C-Colonel! –_Twitch_- D-Didn't mean t-to –_Twitch_- go all whu-whu-whackadoo! –_Twitch_- W-Won't happen next –_Twitch_- t-t-time!" Ed mumbled incoherently, his lithe frame shuddering.

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit!" Mustang retorted, taking a leash from one of his pockets and attaching it to the back of Ed's straight-jacket.

"W-W-Where are you taking m-m-me?" Ed asked as the Colonel dragged him out of the cafeteria and down the hall.

"Back to the Asylum of course! Obviously they let you out too early last time."

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**This Is Just Something I Typed Up One Morning At 5am. I Was Tired, Sugar-High And Couldn't Stop Thinking About Baloney (Again!) Also, Straight-Jackets Are Fun. Very Fun. They Make Me Feel Special Because I Get To Hug Myself I Hope You Enjoyed This Chapter!**


	9. Fleas And Ticks

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

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"Mustang? Yo, Mustang!" Ed poked the sleeping Colonel hard in the back.

"Mmm..what?" Roy mumbled as he turned over and hugged his blanket. Ed grumbled and shook the Colonel's shoulder.

"Mustang, you have to wake up!" the blonde hissed.

Roy whined. "Why? I'm so comfy," he replied.

Ed leaned back and scratched his head. "I got fleas, and they're jumping on your bed." He explained. Roy shot up almost immediately and leapt out of his warm and comfy bed.

"Fleas! Get them off!" he screamed, wiping invisible bugs off his pajamas.

Ed rolled his eyes. "They're not on _you_, idiot! They're on _me!_"

Mustang murmured incoherently and rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. "What's that?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"I have fleas." Ed replied. Mustang opened his eyes and fumbled around for the light-switch.

"What are you doing in my house anyway?" he asked once he'd found the light-switch and flicked it on. Both Ed and Roy squinted as light flood into the room.

"Someone was sleeping in my phone booth, and my cardboard box blew away." The blonde responded sourly.

"What?" Roy's eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he glanced over at the young Alchemist, only to discover that he was clad in naught but a pair of underwear.

"Where are your clothes?"

"The termites ate them," Ed scowled and swore to get revenge on those wretched termites that consumed his clothing.

"_Termites?_ _Fleas?_ What's this about living in a cardboard box?" Roy ran his hands through his raven locks, obviously confused.

"Ever since Al died I've been living on the streets in a cardboard box. But it blew away yesterday,"

"And…how do the termites and fleas fit in?"

"Correction; termites, fleas, ticks, lice, poison ivy, and I think a mosquito laid eggs in my brain."

Roy sighed, "Oh Ed…"

"It wasn't my fault!" Ed contradicted. "The fleas threw a party and invited ticks and lice! While I was on my way over here I tripped and fell in a poison ivy patch! And the mosquito eggs…well, they've been there since I was 6."

"_Clumsy ass_…" Roy hissed under his breath. He slipped his feet into a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers and grabbed Ed's wrist.

"Oi! Where are you taking me?" the blonde shouted when the Colonel began to lead him across the room.

"To the bathroom, so you can be decontaminated." Roy answered. He guided Ed into his bathroom and shoved him in.

"Decontaminated? What do you think I am, a _hobo?_" Ed retorted. The Colonel looked thoughtful.

"Well, let me think. You sleep in a cardboard box, you walk around with dirty hair, lice, ticks, termites, fleas and no clothing, and I'm betting that you also swipe scraps from garbage cans." Roy gave Ed a smug look, which he returned with a flip of his finger.

**-------LINE--------LINELINE-----------LINE---------LINE-----------**

Mustang stepped out of the bathroom with Ed following close behind. The blonde was thoroughly soaked and had a towel draped over his shoulders.

"You know, you didn't have to do that…" Ed whispered

"Of course I did, it was only human." Roy replied with a shrug.

"Making me stand out in the cold, freezing my ass off while you drench me with the hose and squirt Dawn in my face and massage my scalp with Black Hayate's shampoo –which you stole from Hawkeye- is _not_ human, Mustang. And why did we have to take the bathroom window anyway? Couldn't we just use the door?"

Mustang paused to think. "The door! Now why didn't I think of that? That's what it's used for, right? Exiting and entering the house?"

Ed deadpanned. "You mean all this time you've been using the bathroom window?"

"Yes. Though sometimes I would forget the window was there and I'd call the police and ask them to remind me about the window in the bathroom."

"That…doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't have to." Roy halted when he entered his room, contemplating whether or not to send Ed on his way, or let him stay the night.

Ed must have read his mind, for he shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Well…thanks, I guess I'll go and sleep in the middle of the intersection now…bye."

Roy smiled and waved. "Okay, bye Ed!" he replied. The blonde gave him a quizzical look.

"Ummm…yeah, bye. I'll just go lie down in the middle of the street and pray I don't get hit by a car...or freeze to death."

Roy continued to smile. "Good luck! Bye!"

"Out in the middle of nowhere, with no home, no family…all alone…"

"Sounds nice. Goodbye now!"

"Freezing and starving…I'll probably die alone too. All alone…"

"Sounds nice. Goodbye now!"

"When I die, I want you to feed my remains to the Red Sox. Maybe if I haunt them long enough they'll actually _win_ a game."

"Will do. Goodbye!"

"…"

"…"

"Can I spend the night with you? Please?"

"…_Shit_. Alright, I guess so."

**-------LINE--------LINELINE-----------LINE---------LINE-----------**

Roy was surrounded by nude women. They were all closing in on him, pressing their huge chests against him and hugging him tightly. Their warm, smooth skin against him made him shudder.

"Ooh, Mustang, you're so sexy!" the women crooned simultaneously as they stroked his raven hair and grabbed at his body.

"Hoho, ladies please! Keep your hands above the belt!" Roy replied smoothly as he grabbed the nearest woman and pulled her close. Just when he was about to plant his lips upon hers he felt someone kick him sharply in the side, sending him sprawling.

The women burst out laughing and slowly began to disintegrate, their cold, ear-splitting cackles ringing in the Colonel's ears.

"Noooooo! Come back to me!" he cried.

**-WHUMP-**

For the 14th time that night, Roy awoke to find himself on the floor tangled in sheets. He growled and ripped the sheets from his body. How is it that someone as small as FullMetal can push a full-grown man off his bed with one foot?

Mustang glared down at Ed, who was sprawled out on the bed, sleeping peacefully. Roy rudely shoved him aside and crawled back into bed, pulling the sheets over his body to protect himself against Ed's harmful kicks.

Apparently, the shove seemed to have awakened Ed, for he moaned aloud and reached over to steal some of Roy's sheets.

"Mustang, gimme some sheets you bastard. I'm cold!"

Mustang rolled over so the sheets wrapped around him in a cuccoon-like manner. "No! These are _my_ sheets! Get your own!" he retorted.

"_Nyaaah_, but they have _my_ fleas on them!"

"I don't care, now leave me alone."

"Fine…bastard." Ed turned to face the other way and embraced himself tightly. His mind churned with ways to get revenge on the Colonel for stealing the sheets.

"Ooooh…I got it!"

**-------LINE--------LINELINE-----------LINE---------LINE-----------**

Roy's foot came in contact with something wet. He frowned and rolled over, only to find that side of the bed was damp as well.

"…Ed?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Did you just pee on my bed?"

"Yes."

"…Why?"

"I'm a hobo, Mustang, and that's what hobo's do."

"…Ed?"

"Yes?"

"Would you kindly dump a bucket of oil over your head and light yourself on fire for me? I'm too tired."

"Sure."

Roy soon fell asleep, the calming noises of a certain blonde boy screaming in pain and the smell of burning flesh soothing his soul.

**-------LINE--------LINELINE-----------LINE---------LINE-----------**

-**Laughs- This Is So Messed Up… Please Don't Hesitate To Flame! I Can Use Them To Heat My Dinner –Evil Grin-**


	10. Military Toddlers

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ed opened the window to Colonel Mustang's office and climbed inside.

"Greetings from Uranus!" he greeted civilly, flashing the Colonel his trademark smile.

Roy groaned. "Hello Ed." He replied monotonously. Ed must have known that Roy was irritated, for he patted him affectionately on the back.

"Don't worry, I know what will cheer you up!" Ed walked over to the centre of the room and studied the floor carefully, then clapped his hands.

Instantly, a large king-sized bed appeared, complete with clean satin sheets and big, fluffy pillows. Roy couldn't help but gawk at it.

"Where the Hell did you get that?"

"I found it in my ass yesterday afternoon while I was cleaning," the blonde shrugged. "I thought we could use it for…you know…" he winked seductively.

Mustang chuckled. "Ed, you naughty, naughty boy!" he scolded playfully.

"Oh, come on!" Ed purred, stroking the satin sheets. "It'll be so much _fun_…and you know that it's inevitable…you know you _want_ to."

Roy sighed and consented. "Alright Ed…we'll build a stupid fort."

"Yay!"

**--------LINE----------LINELINE---------LINE----------LINE-----**

Ed climbed into the fort and looked around.

"Well? Is it stable?" Roy asked excitedly. Ed nodded and signaled for Roy to climb in as well.

"Ooh, this is so awesome!" the older Alchemist squealed as he slid in next to Ed. "You remembered to bring the crackers in, right?"

Ed dipped his head. "Yup!"

"And you hung up the '_No Girls Allowed_' sign?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Duh! We don't want any _cooties_ getting in our fort and infecting the air!"

"Yeah," Roy agreed, "then we might catch a disease and die! Luckily, I got my cootie shot yesterday."

"No fair!" Ed pouted. "The Doctor said he was out of cootie antitoxin!"

Roy fluffed his raven hair and scooped up the box of crackers. "Not for me. I'm his favorite patient!" he boasted. Ed stuck out his tongue.

"I don't care. I have a foot doctor! Do _you_ have a foot doctor, Mustang?"

Roy crossed his arms over his chest. "Mom sez I don't need one!" he replied through a mouthful of crackers.

Ed snorted and snatched the crackers out of Mustang's hands. "Don't eat all our rations you greedy bastard! We're supposed to save them and use them to trap the Head-hunters and Indians!"

The Colonel opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by someone knocking on his door.

"Sir?" Riza Hawkeye's voice sounded through the wooden door. "Are you in there?"

"Oh no! It's Hawkeye!" Ed gasped, "quick, hide the crackers and sodas!"

Mustang giggled and shoved the food in the front of his uniform, then twisted around until he was lying on his belly. Ed quickly followed suit.

"Sir, I need to speak with you," Hawkeye said. She jiggled the doorknob, and when she found it unlocked, opened the door and let herself in.

"Colonel? Edward? Are you in here?"

Childish giggles caught her attention, and her gaze fell upon the huge king-sized bed in the middle of the room. There was a massive pile of pillows and sheets lying in the middle of the bed.

Hawkeye furrowed her brow. "…Colonel?"

More giggles. The sheets quivered slightly, and the sound of someone being slapped was heard, followed by a certain blonde boy's obnoxious voice.

"You idiot! I told you to lock the door!" Ed hissed.

"I forgot!" Roy whispered back.

"Well…tell her to go away!"

"Ok," Roy raised his voice. "Ummm..the Colonel isn't here right now, he's…ironing his lingerie. Please leave a message after the beep. _Beep_."

Both boys snickered. Hawkeye smacked her palm against her forehead.

"Come on boys, I know you're in there! Stop fooling around!"

The blankets shook, and the giggling continued.

"Can't you read the sign?" Ed asked. "It says '_No Girls Allowed!_'"

Hawkeye eyed the sign. "Actually, it says '_No Girls Allowed…Unless They Are Naked And Want Sex'_"

"_Mustang_!" Ed shouted. The Colonel chortled, "I couldn't help it!"

Their voices lowered to a dull, inaudible whisper. Hawkeye tapped her foot impatiently.

"Honestly, you two are grown men! Act your age!" she barked, evoking another round of chuckles. A corner of the sheets was lifted, and two pairs of eyes stared out at the blonde Lieutenant; one amber, and one onyx.

Hawkeye sent them a malicious glare, which sent them scurrying back under the sheets.

"Do you think she saw us?"

"I don't think so…"

"What do we do now?"

"Prepare the torpedoes!"

Hawkeye groaned. "Sir, Edward, I'm going to give you to the count of three. If you're not standing in front of me, then I'll go in there and drag you out myself."

The boys giggled.

"**_One…_**"

The muffled sounds of bodies shifting and paper ripping was heard

"**_Two…_**"

The front of the sheet was lifted, revealing the same pairs of amber and onyx eyes.

"**_Three!_**"

"Fire the torpedoes!" Ed and Roy whipped out a plastic straw and stuck one end in their mouth and began to blow. Crumbled pieces of soggy paper shot out and struck the Lieutenant.

"Augh! Boys, quit it!" she snapped, holding her arms over her face.

The boy's laughed and proceeded to shoot spitballs at the blonde woman. One particular ball hit her square in the eye.

"Ewww! I'm telling!" Hawkeye cried, rubbing her eye with her sleeve and running out the door. "Fuhrer! Fuhrer! Roy and Ed are shooting spitballs at me!"

The boy's gasped and ducked back under their fort. If Hawkeye told the Fuhrer about their antics, they would get in big trouble!

"What do we do?" Ed cried.

"Lay low and don't move!" Roy responded, shoving the blonde's head into a pillow to silence him.

The sound of footsteps approaching was heard. A corner of the sheets was lifted, and three heads appeared.

"Hey, can we play in your fort?" The dirty blonde boy, Jean Havoc asked. His two friends –A red-head named Heymans Breda and a shy, geeky-looking kid called Kain Fuery- nodded their heads.

"Can we join too? Please?" Breda pleaded.

"We promise we won't tell." Fuery quipped. Roy and Ed looked thoughtful.

"Alright," the boys consented, "but you have to be very quiet…and don't eat our rations!"

Havoc, Breda and Fuery clambered into the fort. Due to the lack of space in the fort (Hey, it was only made for two,) the boys all had to squish in together.

"This is fun!" Havoc squealed.

"This feels like an orgy," Ed mumbled.

Breda and Fuery giggled. "Ed said orgy! He said a bad word!"

"Oww! Havoc, stop kicking my balls!" Roy whined.

"Ssssh, quiet you guys!" Ed hissed. "I hear something!"

Sure enough, the faint sound of heavy boots against tiled floor echoed around the room. The 5 boy's snuggled against eachother and held their breath.

The door was thrust open, and a familiar one-eyed dark face was exposed. The Fuhrer!

The boy's shuffled nervously as the Fuhrer's one dark eye scanned the room. Hawkeye appeared at his side, sniffling and clutching his uniform.

"There! They're under those sheets!" she proclaimed, pointing to Roy and Ed's fort. The Fuhrer narrowed his eye, and ambled closer to the mass of sheets.

"Come on out boys. Jean, Kain, Heymans, Roy, Edward, I know you're in there."

The boy's all groaned simultaneously and slipped out of the fort –all except for Ed of course, as he is the most troublesome of the group-

Havoc, Fuery, Breda and Mustang stood in front of the Fuhrer, head's bowed low. The older man didn't seem to notice Ed's absence, until…

"Ed didn't come out," Hawkeye announced, "he's still in the fort."

The Fuhrer sighed -obviously used to Ed's behavior by now- and reached into the fort to grasp the boy's ankle. Ed squealed as he was yanked out from under the sheets and placed unceremoniously on the ground.

"Edward Elric, you know better than to disobey me like that," Bradley scolded the youngster. "Two weeks detention, and another 2 for shooting spitballs at Riza." He gestured toward Hawkeye, who stuck her tongue out at the blonde.

Roy laughed as his partner was chewed out. The Fuhrer's gaze turned to him, and he addressed the raven-haired youth.

"You shouldn't be laughing Roy, _you_ will be attending detention with Edward."

"Crap!" Roy pouted and stomped his foot. "Watch your tongue, young man!" the Fuhrer snapped.

"Now I want Kain, Jean, Riza and Heymans to return to their work. Edward and Roy, follow me to the detention room."

Bradley grabbed both boy's hands and led them out of the room.

"Tattletale!" Ed hissed at Hawkeye. Roy scowled and flipped her off.

**--------LINE----------LINELINE---------LINE----------LINE-----**

Roy and Ed sat at their assigned seats, their heads bowed low.

"This is so unfair!" Ed muttered. Roy nodded in agreement.

"Stupid Riza,"

"We should kick her ass."

"Yeah…" Roy sighed longingly.

"So what do we do now?" Ed asked as he stared at the ceiling.

Roy smirked. "We transmute a door and go play in the mud!" he responded.

"Oh boy!" Ed leapt up in his seat and clapped his hands together.

**--------LINE----------LINELINE---------LINE----------LINE-----**

**It Took Me Two Hours To Type This One. It Definitely Wins The Prize For 'Most Bizarre Fanfic', Halfway Through I Turned Most Of The Military Into Toddlers. I Hope You Enjoyed It!**


	11. Vic's Head In Toast!

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!---------**

"Hey Everyone! Guess what?" Ed blurted as he burst through the doors of HQ. Several heads turned to face him, several necks cracked from looking so far down.

"What? Did they finally invent the Television?" Havoc asked as he walked over to Ed. Ed laughed and shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of toast.

"Look, I just carved Vic Mignogna's face out of a piece of toast!" Ed shouted excitedly, holding the oval-shaped bread up for everyone to see.

Breda scoffed, "So what? That's nothing! No one cares about your stupid incredible artist abilities Ed!"

Ed flipped Breda off and marched down the hall. "Screw you people! I don't care what you think, I'm going to go show this to the Colonel!"

Everyone watched him veer around a corner with curious eyes. "Aahh, who's Vic Mignogna?" Fuery asked curiously.

"Vic Mignogna is Ed." Riza replied. Fuery gave her a quizzical look. "He's…what?"

**------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!---------**

Ed flung open the door to Mustang's office. "Hey Mustang! Guess what?" He hollered. The Colonel instinctively covered his ears.

"Geez Ed! Could you be any _louder?_" He seethed. Ed looked thoughtful, "Well…yeah, I guess I could. **HEY MUSTANG! GUESS WHAT?**"

Mustang screeched and cursed at the blonde. "What Ed? What is it?"

Ed beamed and reached into his pocket to draw forth the oval-shaped piece of toast. "Looky! I just carved Vic Mignogna's head out of a piece of toast!"

Mustang sauntered over to the short blonde and snatched the toast from his hand to scrutinize it. Indeed, it did look a little like Vic Mignogna. But why did Ed carve it out of a piece of toast?

"Why did you carve Vic's head out of a piece of toast?" Roy questioned, handing it back to Ed.

"Coz I was bored…and I like toast!"

"Yes, but why _toast?_ Why not ice? Or clay or rock?"

"Coz toast is **FUN!** Vic likes toast!"

"…Right. Travis likes spaghetti…" Roy dipped his head, then spun around and returned to his spinning office chair. "You're dismissed Fullmetal."

Ed looked hurt. "But that's not all! I also carved _your_ head!" he fumbled around in his pocket until he produced a second item. A small, brown, oval shaped…

Potato?

"A potato?" Roy wrinkled his nose in disgust. How _dare_ that boy carve his head out of a freakin' potato!

"Yeah, I carved your head out of a potato. See?" Ed held the potato to the light and turned it to one side so Roy could clearly see his magnificent work.

"I'm…I feel nauseas!" Roy stammered, gripping his stomach and bending over slightly.

"Really? Are you pregnant or something?"

"Fullmetal…stop infecting my air with your stupidity!" Mustang snapped.

"Sorry," Ed replied sincerely. He walked over to Mustang's desk and gingerly placed the potato on the surface. "I'll let you keep the Roytato."

_Oh God, he even gave it a bloody name!_ Mustang signaled for Ed to leave the room, which he silently obeyed.

"Good riddance," Roy sighed heavily as he watched the door close. "Now to rid the world of this ghastly…_Roytato._" He shuddered as he cautiously picked up the Roytato.

He gave it a final glance before opening his mouth wide and popping it inside. He paused for a moment to let the taste sink in, then bit down hard.

"Yum, kind of tastes like potato." He mused, chewing thoughtfully. Suddenly, the door to his office was flung open for the second time that day, and the same blonde Alchemist came flying in.

"You _bastard_ Mustang! What the _hell?_ Why did you eat Mustang?" Ed screamed as he leapt on Mustang's desk and began ominously choking the older man.

"Hrmm naawtt aaytiiin imm!" Mustang mumbled through a mouthful of Roytato. He opened his mouth to prove his point when a small dollop of Roytato slipped through his lips and plopped onto his desk.

Roy and Ed stared at the small dollop with wide eyes. "I...I don't…" Ed mumbled. He turned back to Roy and proceeded to choke him.

"How _could_ you? He was my _friend!_ Why did you eat the Colonel, Colonel?" the blonde screamed. Mustang flailed his arms desperately. Large unchewed pieces of Roytato clogged up his airway, making it difficult to breathe.

"EeeEeddd umm Mmmstaaan!" the Flame Alchemist attempted to rip himself from Ed's iron grip, but it proved futile.

"You narcissistic, obtuse, incompetent, balky, indolence, imprudent bastard-of-a-confidant with an unfathomable God complex!"

"Hrmm huuurin meee!"

"What the Hell is _wrong_ with you, Mustang? What possessed you to _eat_ Mustang?"

"_Haaaam shoookiiiin!_"

"1 K33L J00!"

**BAM!** The sound of a gun firing was heard. Ed immediately stopped choking the Colonel and spun around to face none other than…Maes Hughes (Who isn't dead. Who did you expect? Riza Hawkeye?)

"Sweet mother of Crap! Edward, what are you _doing?_" Hughes hissed as he ran over to Roy's desk and pried the blonde's hands from the Colonel's neck.

"I was choking Mustang! He ate Mustang! Can you believe it? He _ate_ Mustang!" Ed cried, tears streaming down his face. Hughes lifted him off the desk and placed him on the floor.

"Nevermind Ed," he mumbled while running around to the other side of Mustang's desk.

"Come on, get up Roy!" Hughes whispered. He hit the raven-haired man hard on the back several times, until a large, gooey glob of brown shit flew from his mouth. The Roytato whizzed through the air and descended upon Ed, clonking him on the head and knocking him out instantly.

"Ed…you dick!" Roy cursed hoarsely, grabbing his throat and rubbing it. Hughes exhaled in relief. "Thank God you're still alive!"

Roy disregarded his friend and leapt over his desk. He bolted toward the unconscious Alchemist and dug into one of his pockets.

"Roy, you're not gonna _rape_ him, are you?" Hughes gasped.

"No, that only happens in Fanfics," Roy replied. His face lit up when his fingers found the item he'd been looking for. He eagerly pulled it out, then stood up and headed back to his desk, but not before giving the blonde a good, hard kick in the groin.

"What's that?" Hughes asked curiously, eyeing the item.

Roy smirked maliciously and opened his hand, revealing a small piece of toast nestled in the center of his palm.

"Toast? Weird…it sorta looks like Vic Mignogna…"

"It is. Ed carved it." Mustang cackled evilly, "and _I'm_ going to eat it!"

Before Hughes could protest, Mustang shoved the toast into his mouth and swallowed it in less than a second. He licked his lips and gave a content sigh. "Yum, Vic," he murmured.

"I can't believe you just ate Vic…" Hughes gaped.

"I can't believe Ed nearly killed me!" Roy quipped.

"I can't believe the Colonel spat Roytato on me!" Ed added from his unconscious state on the floor.

I can't believe it's not butter!" Envy proclaimed, popping out of nowhere and holding up a container of margarine.

Hughes deadpanned. Roy snatched a rubber chicken from one of his desk drawers.

"Go away or I'll beat you with my rubber chicken!" he hissed ominously. Envy shuddered and obediently exited the room through an open window.

"Wow…strange…" Hughes muttered.

"Yeah…"

"What do we do now?"

"Well…until Ed wakes up…let's carve people's heads out of bars of soap!!"

"Alright!" Hughes clapped excitedly and scurried off to the bathroom to swipe some bars of soap. Roy retrieved two pocket-knives from his desk and ambled over to the still unconscious blonde teenager.

"Until you awaken, I appoint you my seat! Now I shall rest my morbidly obese ass on your face." Roy announced as he sat down on Ed's face. He removed his feet from the ground and leaned his full weight on Ed's head, evoking a small cracking sound.

"Myah, take that bitch! That's for accusing me of eating Mustang!"

**------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!---------**

**Yup, Definitely Strange. This Is Based On A True Story Too. I Got Really Bored One Night And Decided To Carve Toast People (I Carved Toast Ed, Toast Roy And Toast Al,) It Was Really Fun And Entertaining ( I Have Pictures!) I Hope You Enjoyed This Chapter!**


	12. The Russians Attack

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**-----BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!---------**

Ed sauntered into HQ with a large smile on his face. Everyone who saw him knew he'd just accomplished something incredible. Many were tempted to ask, but they were all too stup-busy…yeah.

"Edward," Hawkeye addressed the young man, "care to share what you're smiling about?"

Ed's smile grew until he was forced to shut his eyes. "Nothing, I'm just in a good mood." He replied simply, continuing his stroll down the long hallways.

Havoc watched him go with curious eyes. "Show of hands, who thinks he's getting laid tonight?"

Everyone raised their hand. Except for Fuery, who was tied to a pole, and Trisha, because she's dead…and several other people whom I will not take the time to acknowledge because it would be a waste of space and an unnecessary use for hand muscles.

Ed ambled into Mustang's office in a pompous manner, as if he himself owned the world (Albeit he doesn't. I do.) Mustang looked up from his Etch-A-Sketch and glared at the blonde.

"Fullmetal, what do you want?"

Ed proceeded to grin. "Nothing."

"I see," Roy paused, "what are you smiling about?"

Ed let out a long laugh. "It's funny…I went to see President Bush this morning…for a visit. And he made this comment about my height –or lack thereof- and I got pissed and kicked him in the groin!"

Mustang deadpanned. "…And what's so wrong with that?" he asked.

Ed shook his head, "That's not all. I kicked him in the groin, stole his peanuts and insulted his Mother."

"Get to the point, Ed."

"Well…alright. The Russians are stalking me. They're going to kill us."

Roy's eyes expanded. "What? Us? Why _us?_ I didn't do anything!"

Ed reached into his coat and produced a box of peanuts labeled "**Georgie's Peanuts**" and threw it at Mustang. "There, now you did something. You stole Bush's peanuts."

Roy quickly leapt up and tossed the peanuts to the ground. "What the Hell Ed? Bush _touched_ those peanuts, you know!"

"Ewww, really?" Ed retched and took off his gloves. "Quick! Burn my gloves!" he ordered. Mustang obediently snapped his fingers and turned the infected gloves to ashes.

"There, now about the Russians-" Mustang started, but was cut short by someone loudly pounding on his door.

"Open up! We know you're in there!" a male voice yelled. Ed immediately lost his calm attitude and began hyperventilating.

"OhmyGod! It's the Russians!" Ed cried, running around frantically and flailing his arms. Mustang ignored the panicking blonde and edged towards the door.

"Umm…no, we're not in here. We're in Florida, at Disney World, on the Tower of Terror." The Flame Alchemist stated. The Russians stopped banging and whispered to eachother in their foreign language of Russia-ese.

"Alright, we'll be right there! Don't move! We're coming to kill you!" one of the Russians replied. The sound of an angry Russian mob tromping down the hallway was heard.

"Good, they're gone," Ed sighed in relief.

"Yes," Mustang agreed. "But when they find out we're not in Disney World they'll come back here…and kill us!"

Ed screamed, "OhmyGod! What do we do, Colonel? What do we _do?_"

"I don't know! You think of something, you're the genius here!"

"That's right…I'm the genius! I'll think of something!" Ed laughed like a maniac.

"Laugh later, think now!" Roy snapped. Ed hastily shut his mouth and probed his empty head for ideas.

After several minutes of thinking, the blonde snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

"Well?" Roy coaxed.

"We need to escape. My idea is to sneak you out…in my pocket."

"In your _pocket?_"

"Yes. Then I'll leap out the window and fly us to safety!"

"Ed…" Mustang sighed, "You're going to have to re-think that plan…"

Ed had no time to think, for the moment Roy finished his unfinished sentence, someone pounded their fist on the door.

"You lying bastards! You weren't at Disney World! You were _here_ all along!" the same Russian man yelled.

"Oh shit! They're back!" Mustang cursed. Ed quickly seized his pants and held open his pocket.

"Quick! Climb into my pocket!" he ordered the Colonel. Mustang gave the blonde a quizzical look. Was he _serious?_

"Ed, I don't think-"

"No time to think! Hurry up and jump in!"

"Ed, it's not possible."

"What do you mean? Stop screwing around and get in my pocket, Mustang!"

"Ed…I can't."

"Why the Hell not? Just jump in!"

"I'm too big!"

"Then lay off the fatty foods, you fatty! Or call Jenny Craig! Now get in my pocket!"

"Ed, I can't fit!"

"Yes you can! Go ahead and jump in!"

"But-"

"Stop being a dick, Mustang! **Get. In. My. Pocket!**"

"I can't fit!"

Ed's eyes narrowed ominously. He reached into his coat and drew forth a small hand gun. Mustang's eyes widened as Ed loaded the gun and pointed it to the Colonel's head.

"Get…in…my…pocket…**NOW!**"

"O-Okay," Roy walked over to the blonde and eyed his small pocket hesitantly.

"**NOW! OR I'LL SHOOT!**"

Mustang let out a long sigh, then slowly lowered his head into Ed's pocket. "There, I'm in your stupid pocket!" he announced, voice muffled by Ed's pants.

"No you aren't!" Ed blurted, on the verge of tears. "You're just _pretending!_ Stop fooling around and get in!" He stuck the end of the gun on Mustang's ass and fingered the trigger.

"Alright, alright!" Mustang lowered himself further, until his entire head was in the small pocket. "I'm in!"

"Good, now hold on!" Ed threw the gun to the floor and bolted toward the window, dragging Mustang's poor body on the ground behind him.

"Brace yourself!" Ed embraced himself tightly, then leapt at the glass…only to have himself ricochet and slam into the far wall.

"What happened? Were you trying to escape?" the Russian man yelled through the door.

Ed sat up and rubbed his head. Mustang's mangled body lay in a heap at his side. "No, we were just trying to escape," he replied.

"Oh…alright."

"You okay, Colonel?" Ed asked. He lowered his voice threateningly. "Are you still in my pocket?"

"Y-Yes," Mustang replied weakly. "But I think one of my ribs pierced through my heart, and my back bone was shattered!"

"You know, all you had to say was '_Yes Ed, I'm fine!_'" Ed replied sourly as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"Ready to try that again?" Ed questioned, facing the window a second time. The Colonel tried to shake his head, but he was paralyzed.

"Good!" Ed ran toward the window, embraced himself, then leapt at the glass. Just like the first time, he ricocheted off and slammed into the same wall.

"Almost had it!" he murmured. Mustang –who was barely conscious by this point- managed to open his mouth to speak.

"Ed…give it up, there's no way you can break that window!" he whispered hoarsely. Ed nodded, as if he'd known that all along.

"Right. Good thing I have a back-up plan!" He walked over to the door and knocked softly. "Hello? You guys still out there?"

"Yeah, we're here. Are you finished escaping yet so we can kill you?" the Russian male asked.

"Yeah, about that. See, we can't seem to break the window."

"Oh, that's unfortunate."

"Yes it is. So we were wondering if we could maybe use one of your men as a club to smash the window with…you know?"

The Russian man considered the blonde's plan. "Alright," he consented, "I'll be your club."

"Great!" Ed flung open the door and took the Russian by the hand to lead him to the window.

"Okay, now all you have to do is remain _perfectly still_ while we shatter every bone in your body, implode your organs and demolish your immune system. Can you do that?"

The man nodded. Ed bent down and grabbed him by the legs. He lifted the Russian up and swung him over his shoulder like a baseball bat.

"Hold still!" the blonde grunted as he swung the man full force into the window. The impact shattered the glass instantly, and the man was sent flying through the air, until he landed in the middle of the street and caused a traffic jam.

"Yes!" Ed cried triumphantly. "Now to fly us to safety!" he leapt out the window, arms spread out, and began flapping wildly.

Ed was shocked when he found out that he couldn't fly. He remained airborne for about 2 seconds before plummeting to the Earth and slamming into a Double-Decker bus.

21 people died that day. Some perished in the traffic jam, some died attempting to save Ed and Roy by leaping out the window after them, and everyone else committed suicide. Except for Fuery, who was tied to a pole, and Trisha, because she's dead…and several other people whom I will not take the time to acknowledge because it would be a waste of space and an unnecessary use for hand muscles.

**-----BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!---------**

**I Got The Idea For This Chapter One Night While I Was Taking A Shower. The Mental Image Of Ed Yelling At Roy To Get In His Pocket Is Extremely Hilarious, And I Just Had To Write About It. I Hope You Enjoyed It! Also, I'm Sorry If I Offended Any Russians. I Don't Think Russians Are Stupid, And If You Were Offended In Any Way Then I'm Very Sorry.**


	13. Nipples

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

"Hey Alfred, do you have any scotch tape?" Ed asked one afternoon as he barged into Alfons Heiderich's house. Alfons looked up from his jigsaw puzzle and sighed,

"For the last time Ed, my name is Alfons, and why do you need scotch tape?"

Ed waved his hand nonchalantly. "Oh, my nipples are erect and I need something to hold them back. You wouldn't believe how sharp and pointed they are, I took a guys' eye out today!"

Al winced visibly and suppressed a shudder. "Gross, Ed…why don't you wear that padded lacy bra I bought you?"

"Well," the blonde began as he rummaged through some drawers, "I was out for a walk this morning and it began to snow, so of course my ears began to freeze. I don't much favor frozen ears so I unhooked my bra and wore it on my head like earmuffs!" Ed beamed proudly at his smart idea.

"Ah…right, but where _is_ your bra?" Al asked. He stood up and helped Ed look for the scotch tape.

"Meh, I saw a starving cat in the street and fed it to him." Ed paused and looked thoughtful. "Actually, it wasn't a very smart idea now that I think about it. The bra got caught in the cat's throat and killed it."

The non-vertically-challenged blonde tried to force the disturbing image out of his mind. "Ugh…nevermind. Oh, I found the scotch tape!" He held up a small roll of white tape.

Ed cheered and snatched it out of Al's hands. He quickly ripped off two small squares and lifted his shirt to place them securely across his still erect nipples.

Al covered his eyes. "Jesus Christ! Put those away!" he shouted. Ed blinked, "Actually, my name's Ed, but I'm flattered that you think of me as a God. And what's wrong with my nipples anyway?"

Ed grabbed his man breasts and squeezed them. "Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipplezzz!" he sang, holding them up for Al to see. Al clamped his hand over his mouth to refrain from vomiting.

"What's the matter with you?" he questioned once he had the rising bile under control. Ed shrugged and stared down at his breasts. "Nothing, I'm just really interested in my nipples, that's all."

"Ugh." Al groaned, rubbing his temples soothingly. "Why, oh why did I agree to put up with you?"

"Because I threatened to murder your parents and bomb your country." Ed replied simply, still staring transfixed at his chest. "Teeeeeaaaaaaaaaaats!"

"Ed!" Alfons snapped, "Shut up! I don't want to hear about your Goddamn nipples!"

"Why? Are you…jealous?" Ed grinned pompously. Without warning, he grabbed Al's shirt and pulled it up (Don't ask how he did that without removing Al's suspenders first, because I haven't a clue)

"Edward!" The blue-eyed man shrieked. Ed squint his eyes and observed Heiderich's chest.

"Man, talk about flat! I've seen walls that were fuller than you!" Ed shouted, poking Al's nearly nonexistent nipples. "And why are your nipples such an odd color?"

Alfons sniffed indignantly. "Nipples come in all different shapes, colors and sizes, you know. Pink is not the norm."

"Yeah but…yours are indigo." Ed contradicted. Al huffed and pulled down his shirt. "I don't care; I like my nipples the way they are…nice and blue."

"Whatever," Ed responded impassively. "Oh, is your penis blue too?"

Alfons nearly swallowed his head. "Edward! No, my penis is _not_ blue! God, you nearly made me swallow my own head!" He pointed to the sentence above. Ed looked up but didn't see anything, as he was too short and the letters were far away.

"Why the Hell is there letters floating around up there?" the blonde Alchemist wondered aloud. Al shrugged. "I don't know…what do you want to do now?"

"Oh! Oh! Let's go laugh at crippled people!" Ed suggested, jumping up and down excitedly. Alfons squealed and ran off to grab his coat.

"Oh boy, crippled people!" he cried happily.

Several minutes later, Alfons appeared with his coat on. "Ready to go?" he asked Ed.

"Yeah…-Wait, before we go I have to take a pregnancy test!" Ed scurried out of the room and disappeared into the bathroom.

Al watched him curiously. "Why?"

"Oh, yanno," Ed responded through the closed door, "just for fun."

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

After several long minutes, Edward stepped out of the bathroom holding up a small, white thermometer. "I got two pigs and a lemon…did I win the lottery?"

Al blinked. "Ed, you weren't trying to win the lottery, you were taking a pregnancy test. And judging from what you just said, I don't think you're pregnant."

Ed cursed and threw the pregnancy thingie out the window. "Damnit! I always lose! I'll never become famous!"

"Yeah, yeah, can we go now?" Al pleaded impatiently. Ed disregarded his friend and walked out the door. The taller blonde trailed after him.

"Hey Ed, can I ask you something about Amestris?" he asked.

"Sure, whatever Hideherdick." Ed mumbled in response.

"Heiderich. Anyway, back in Amestris, when you flushed the toilet did the water run clockwise or counter-clockwise?"

Ed looked thoughtful. "I don't know…I never flushed the toilet before."

Al's face turned a light shade of green, "Eww, seriously? That's gross!"

"Where I lived poop was considered a delicacy." Ed replied indignantly. Al began to feel nauseas again, and hid his mouth behind his hand.

"Oh God…that's _so_ nasty!"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Hey Shithead, have they invented _Star Wars_ yet?"

Alfons managed to swallow his bile a second time. "Not yet. They will in 1970 though."

Ed cursed again, "Damn! Now I have to wait like, 49 more years! Crap…"

Al pat him on the head soothingly. "I feel for you bro, I'm still waiting for them to invent the Television so I can watch _Desperate Housewives_ and _Sex And The City_."

Ed sent his brother's counterpart a disapproving glare. "Those are chick shows, God Alfalfa!"

"Alfons," Al corrected, "and so what if I like chick shows? There's nothing wrong with that!"

"Oh I disagree, chick shows make you horny!" Ed retorted. "And that makes _all_ my sexy parts stand out!"

"You mean…" Al's eyes expanded.

"Yup. I become a walking deathtrap!" Ed shuddered as unwanted memories swam in his brain. "Oh God…Mom…I'm sorry."

"Mmm, I got the Munchies, let's go grab a bite from _McDonalds_." Al said, totally ignoring his friend.

Ed shook his head. "Sorry Hideherdick, but _McDonalds_ hasn't been invented yet. You'll have to wait about 19 more years."

"Ahh, what the Hell?" Al scowled, "This is so-" he paused as he was seized by a coughing fit. Al halted in mid-step and keeled over, holding his hand over his mouth so he wouldn't spit on anyone.

"Holy shit! Watch were you're spitting those germs, Alford!" Ed cried, leaping as far away from Heiderich as his lazy ass would permit.

Heiderich waved his hand, indicating that he was almost finished infecting the world. His coughs eventually died down, and he raised himself to his full height.

"Whew…for a second there I thought I was gonna die!" Al admitted, chuckling slightly.

Ed stared at his pale hand. "Dude, you're bleeding!" he yelped. Al furrowed his brow and followed Ed's gaze to his crimson-stained hand.

"Well, what do you know, I'm bleeding!" he shouted.

"Are you starting your period?" Ed asked, still staring at the blood. Heiderich shook his head, "Not likely, I don't have the proper body parts for that."

"Oh. I have ovary cancer." Ed announced.

"…Right," Al replied unsurely.

"Yeah. My ovaries have cancer."

"Uhhh, can we please change the subject?"

"Sure. My nipples are erect again, I need a stronger type of tape."

"Why not try duct tape?"

"…That's a good idea! Let's go find some!"

"Okay, then afterwards we can laugh at crippled people!"

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

**Wow…What Can I Say? This Is Really One Of Those Random Rambling Oneshots, I Don't Know What I Was Thinking When I Typed This. I Hope You Enjoyed It! **


	14. Randomness

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

_**Random Oneshot No. 1**_

**Why Edward Is So Short**

"A WHAT?!" Edward cried, jumping from his seat and knocking over a jar of delicious lollipops in the process.

The Doctor twitched. "...A dead fetus, Mr. Elric. There's a dead fetus living inside your bladder."

Ed shuddered and stared down at the front of his pants, as if expecting a hand to pop out at any moment and say "Hey buddy! Ya wanna buy a WATCH?!"

He shook his head and turned to face his brother, who hadn't spoken a word since the Doctor came in. "A dead fetus, Al. Isn't it great?" he said in a shaky, high-pitched tone.

Al nodded slowly. "Great..." he replied. The Doctor cleared his throat loudly. "Anyway, yes, you have a dead fetus living inside of you. It's about the size of a raccoon, and it feeds off your height."

Ed looked confused. "Feeds off my height? What the Hell does that mean?". The Doctor chuckled, "It means that every time you grow -even if it's just a centimeter- the dead fetus gobbles it up!"

"So...is that why brother is so short?" Al asked. The Doctor nodded.

Ed growled and glared at his stomach. "You...bastard! I'm going to call you Freddy!". He then burst into tears and ran out of the room.

_**Random Oneshot No. 2**_

**Why Roy Wears An Eyepatch**

One evening after doing his paperwork, Roy returned to his house and sat on the floor. 

"Hmmmm...I think I would like some ice-cream!" Roy thought. He got off the floor and went over to the freezer and opened it. Inside were 2 boxes of ice-cream. One was _Cookies N Cream_, and the other was _Chocolate Fudge_. Roy took the _Cookies N Cream_ ice-cream because _Chocolate Fudge_ reminds him of shit...diarrhea shit...that comes out of him when he drinks too much beer. Also, it leaves filthy brown diarrhea stains on his bathroom floor.

But diarrhea isn't all bad, because it can also be used to get REVENGE! Roy did that once, a long time ago when Edward called him a Bastard he drank alot of beer and snuck into Ed's room at night and shat all over his floor! And in the morning Ed slipped on it and fell out the window and squished Dumbledore. And that is how Dumbledore died. It wasn't Snape who killed him, it was Ed. They all just blamed Snape because if you take the P out of his name and replace it with K it spells Snake. And snakes kill people.

Also, Snape's first name is Severus, which sounds like Sever, which means "To cut off"

Anyway, Roy took out the box of _Cookies N Cream_ ice-cream and scooped some into a bowl. But then he realized he was out of spoons, so he used a fork instead. And while he was eating his hand began to masturbate. Roy ignored it at first, but then it jacked-off too hard and stabbed Roy in the eye!

And that is why Roy wears an eyepatch. And I should know, because I was there with him. I was hiding in his dirty laundry bin so he couldn't see me. But I was there! I saw the whole thing!

_**Random Oneshot No. 3**_

**What _Really_ Happened To Ed And Al**

One day Edward, age 11, decided to make a delicious milkshake for his brother Al, age 10.

So he went into the kitchen and collected some ingredients; Ice-cream, Coors Light, maple leaves, Dawn dishwashing soap, bellybutton lint and earwax.

Then he put the ingredients in the blender and pushed the button. Nothing happened. Ed pushed the button again. Nothing happened. "Hmmm...Maybe there's some shit stuck in the blades!" Ed thought aloud, sticking his arm into the blender and feeling around.

At that moment Alphonse walked into the kitchen and saw his brother struggling with the blender. Then he noticed that the blender was unplugged, so he thought it would be nice to plug it in for Ed.

Al picked up the plug and shoved it into the wall. Instantly, the blender's blades started rotating, and since Ed's hand was in the blender, the blades chopped off Ed's hand.

"OhmyGod! MY **HAND!**" Ed shouted, sticking his handless arm into the blender to retrieve his hand. Suddenly, the rotating blades chopped off Ed's arm, all the way up to his elbow.

"OhmyGod! MY **ARM!**" Ed shouted, shoving his upper arm into the blender to grab his arm. Suddenly, the blender's blades chopped off Ed's upper arm and shoulder.

"OhmyGod! THE **REST OF MY ARM!**" Ed shouted, shoving his leg into the blender to retrieve the rest of his arm. Suddenly, the rotating blades chopped off Ed's foot.

"OhmyGod! MY **FOOT!**" Ed shouted, shoving his footless leg into the blender to grab his foot. Suddenly, the blender's blades chopped off Ed's leg, all the way up to his knee.

"OhmyGod! MY **LEG!**" Ed shouted. He went to stick his head into the blender to retrieve his leg when Al jumped forward. "DON'T WORRY BROTHER, I'LL GET YOUR BODY PARTS BACK!"

Al dove into the blender. Suddenly, the spinning blades chopped Al into a million little pieces.

"OhmyGod! MY **WHOLE FRIGGIN' BODY!**" Al shouted. Thinking quickly, Ed grabbed the blender and ran out the door and down the street.

"HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME!" he shouted, waving the blender around frantically. "Careful brother!" Al warned. "My left testicle just splashed onto the road!"

Then they heard someone calling for them. Ed turned and saw a weird looking guy with black hair running towards him. "My name is Harry Potter! I'm a wizard!" the guy said. "I can help you!"

Harry Potter took out his wand and pointed it at the blender. "Bibbity Bobbity Boo Fuckaaaaaaass!" he shouted. The Al smoothie flew out of the blender and went into this suit of armor that was walking nearby.

"Oh, thank you!" Ed said. "You saved my brother! Now quick, help me!". Harry Potter shook his head. "Sorry, I can't. Dr. Phil is starting right now!". Then he ran off down the street.

"Yeah? Well...screw you! You suck anyway, and I don't care for you at all, my good sir!" Ed replied, then he fainted due to blood loss.

"OhmyGod! BROTHER!" Al shouted. He ran up to his brother and cradled him in his cold, metal arms. "A-Al?" Ed whispered hoarsely. "Yes?" Al replied.

"I-If anyone asks...we were trying to bring our dead Mother back to life with Alchemy...ok?"

Al nodded.

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

**Ermmm –Sweatdrop- I Wrote These A LONG Time Ago, And I Recently Found Them Stashed Away Somewhere And Decided To Submit Them, You Know, Because They Made Me Laugh.**


	15. Ed The Hippo

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

Alfons rapped noisily on Edward's bedroom door. "Come on Edward, get up!" he hollered. Ed mumbled incoherently and snuggled under his sheets.

Alfons groaned and raised his voice. "Get up Ed! You're gonna be late for work!"

Still, Ed remained silent and unmoving, like one of those things that don't move because they're lifeless…oh, you know what I'm talking about! Dead people, that's it! Dead people!

The taller blonde clenched his fists angrily. Why did he have to deal with this every single morning? Couldn't Edward get up on his own? Why the Hell haven't they invented Alarm clocks yet?

"Edward, get up this instant or I'll body slam your door!"

Al could have sworn he heard Ed say "I'd like to see you try," Albeit it could have just been his messed-up mind.

"Alright, I will!" Al stomped off in the opposite direction until he was a good 9 meters away from the door. He crouched low, relaxed his shoulders, then ran like Hell.

"RED DAAAAAAAAWN!" he cried as he leapt full force at the wooden door. The abrupt contact sent the poor defenseless door flying off its hinges and into one of the far walls in Ed's room.

Al huffed and leaned over to catch his breath. When he'd finally regained his composure, he strolled over to Ed's bed and kicked at the unmoving lump lying in it.

"Get up you lazy, incompetent leprechaun with a nipple fetish!"

Ed moaned loudly and aroused himself to a sitting position. "But I don't want to go to work!" he whined, "I want to stay home and smear peanut-butter on your bed!"

Al scoffed and rummaged through Ed's dresser until he pulled out a suitable outfit. "Well, that's too bad! Now hurry up and get dressed, I don't want to be late again!"

Grumbling, Ed hauled his carcass out of bed and shrugged off his clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfons staring at his nude body. He quickly grasped his nipples and began to squeeze them.

"N-N-N-Nipples!" he sang. Al immediately clamped his hand over his mouth and rushed out of the room. Ed cackled evilly as he slipped into his trademark ugly brown pants and hobo-like shirt, along with his evil rapist trenchcoat and matching loafers.

"There has to be some way for me to get out of work…but how?" he asked himself. Ed snatched a brush off his nightstand and ran it through his long hair.

"_Someday my prince will come, someday my prince will come!_" he sang. Al once again rapped on his door (Oh wait, his door is gone, so I guess Al wrapped on the dry wall instead)

"Hurry up Ed, we only have 30 minutes!"

"I'm coming! God, have a little patience!" Ed snapped. Suddenly, an idea wormed into his brain. He hastily pulled his hair into a ponytail and rushed out the door.

"Hey Al! Do you still have that _How to avoid going to work _book?"

Al tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think. Hold on, I'll go get it."

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

3 minutes later, Alfons returned clutching a small, dusty brown book. Ed squealed and greedily snatched it from his friend's hand.

"What do you need that for?" Al asked curiously, watching as Ed flipped through every page and skimmed passed the writing.

"Simple my dear friend, if I can find an excuse to get out of work that is even _slightly_ believable…I can get out of work!" Ed beamed proudly.

Alfons deadpanned, "You are such a dunce…"

Ed didn't hear him, obviously too caught up in reading. "Nope, not that, definitely not that…Hey Al, am I pregnant?"

"No."

"Oh damn…am I a Vegetable?"

"I don't know, did you grow out of the ground?"

"No, I fell out of a tree. Am I mentally retarded?"

"…Yes."

"Damn, it's not in the book. Oh, do I weigh over 300 pounds?"

Al paused and gave Ed the once over. "I don't think so," he replied. Ed cursed in defeat and slammed the book shut. "Then it's hopeless! There's no _way_ I can get out of work!"

Al bit his lip. Normally, he wouldn't give Ed a reason to miss work, but he was so determined to do so! Al had never seen him this determined in a long time. "Well…you know Ed, you could always gain 300 pounds."

Ed snorted. "By doing what? Eating and sleeping?"

"Yes, actually." Al considered the idea. It was stupid and rather foolish, but it might be fun. It would also make a good experiment, and it was the perfect chance for him and Ed to bond!

"I could help you do it. Shouldn't take very long, a day at the least."

Ed cheered and tossed the book across the room. "Yes! I don't have to go to work anymore!" he cried, jumping up and down excitedly. Al shook his head and placed his hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Not yet Ed, first you have to gain 300 pounds. Ready to get started?"

Ed clenched his fists and punched the air, "Yeah!"

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

"Why are we doing this again?" Ed asked uncertainly as he stared down at the small square item. Al rolled his eyes as he fumbled with the little box.

"Before you can start rapidly gaining weight we have to find out how much you weigh, so we know how much more weight you have to put on."

Ed bobbed his head, as if he'd known that all along. He eagerly waited until Al stepped aside, then cautiously climbed onto the scale and watched intently as the needle began to quiver.

"What the-! 116 pounds? That's all!" Ed screamed, bending down to inspect the needle. "Are you sure this isn't broken?"

"I doubt it," Alfons replied. He traced the outline of Ed's body with his eyes and sighed loudly. "We've got a long way to go…"

"Damn straight!" Ed quipped. He leapt off the scale and scurried into the kitchen at lights' speed.

"Where are you going?" Alfons yelled.

"To the kitchen! I'm going to eat every single edible item in there! I only have 23 minutes to gain 184 pounds!"

Al's eyes widened and he quickly raced into the kitchen. Knowing Ed, he'd probably try to consume the refrigerator or the stove…or the house! God help them! –Prays–

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

Ed sat at the kitchen table, greedily inhaling a box of graham crackers as he glared at Alfons, who was currently digging through the cupboards for some more food.

"Well? Harve uuu funn ennithinn?" Ed asked through a mouthful of mushy crackers. Al shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry Ed. All that's left is a jar of pickled yams, 3 dead toads and a box of clay."

Ed blinked and slapped his forehead. "You _idiot!_ Those are _edible!_ Bring them to me!" he ordered. Al obediently scooped up the items and dropped them on the table.

"Are you sure? They don't look edible to me…"

The blonde Alchemist bitch-slapped his friend, "Who the Hell cares? _You're_ not the one eating them, are you?"

Alfons silently agreed and tried to keep himself from vomiting while Ed stuffed his face with pickled yams and dead toads.

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

Ed took a deep breath, stuck out his chest, and bravely stepped on the scale. Once again, the needle quivered before landing on a number.

Ed nearly choked on his tongue. "The Hell? 144 pounds! That's all?" He angrily banged his head against the wall. "I'm nowhere _near_ 300!"

Alfons stared at the ground, feeling defeated. They only had 14 minutes left before they were expected to arrive at work. Ed had wanted so badly to get out of it, and now his dream was crushed.

"And you're sure you don't have any more food?" Ed questioned, stepping off the scale. Despite the fact that he'd only gained 28 pounds, his body had changed a lot. He was now considered Morbidly Obese. Also, when he laughed his belly shook like a bowl full of jelly.

Al thought really hard. Did he have any more food in the house? "Yes! What about the dandelions in the front yard?"

"Yes!" Ed whooped as he dragged his fat body out the door (Which was quite difficult) and into the yard. Ed observed the patches of yellow flowers before him.

"Well, are you gonna eat them?" Al asked, leaning against the doorway and eyeing the Alchemist. Ed nodded his head and wiped a stray tear from his eye.

"Yeah, it's just…I wish my brother could see me right now. I wonder what he would say…" Ed threw himself at the bunches of flowers and started gobbling them up.

"He'd probably say something like, 'Dear God, I've got a fat, lazy cow for a brother'" Al whispered to himself.

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

Once again, Ed took a deep breath, stuck out his chest and stepped onto the scale. The needle quivered, then landed on a number.

Ed groaned and punched the wall with his fat fist. "Damnit! I'm only at 168! I'm still off by like, 140 pounds!"

"Actually, 132 to be precise," Alfons tiredly corrected the blonde tub of lard. Ed spun around –causing his fat to ripple and fly to one side- and glared at Al.

"You be quiet! I hate you, you know! You haven't helped me at all! You just bitched at me the entire time!" Ed spat. Al yawned, not even the least bit affected by Ed's insults.

"Whatever. Look, we only got 6 minutes before we're classified as late, can we just go?"

"No!" Ed cracked his knuckles ominously and glared daggers at the scale. "We're so close I can taste it…if only…" he paused, eyes expanding slightly.

"What? What is it?" Alfons asked in concern. Ed turned around very slowly, and scrutinized Al's figure.

"Al…how much do you weigh?"

Al, unable to comprehend what Ed meant, casually answered. "About 132 pounds. Why?"

Ed heaved a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "We have no other choice Al, I'm going to have to eat you."

Alfons nearly fell over in shock. He hastily regained his balance and sputtered, "What? What the Hell, Ed? You can't _possibly_ eat me! That…that's called _cannibalism!_"

The fat blonde licked his lips, "Is it? Then I guess I'm a cannibal." He stretched out his fat arms and lunged at Al. Al yelped and quickly ducked out of the way.

"Ed, stop it! You're not gonna eat me!" he cried. Ed raised himself to his feet and staggered after Al. "Oh yes I am! If it gets me out of work, I'll do _anything!_"

Alfons screamed hysterically and stumbled down the stairs with Ed hot on his heels. Unfortunately (Or fortunately, depending on the person,) Ed tripped over his fat feet and rolled down the stairs like a giant, obese boulder.

Al jumped out of the way just in time. The Ed boulder rolled passed him and slammed into the front door, knocking it over instantly. The taller –but thinner- blonde cheered joyously and leapt over Ed's body and out the door.

Ed growled and did a somersault, landing firmly on his fat feet and chasing after Alfons. They were only inches apart from eachother. Even though Ed was a morbidly obese hippo, Al was a lazy geek who never exercised, thus they were pretty evenly matched.

Al probably would have won, if he hadn't tripped over an upturned root and sprawled across the ground. He gasped for breath and rolled over onto his back, just in time to see Ed's huge body hovering over him. Mouth open wide, ocher eyes closed in pure bliss. Finally, Ed descended upon Al and engulfed him in one bite.

Ed chewed slowly on the fleshy body. "Yum, Alfons," he mumbled.

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

Edward picked up the phone and dialed a number. The phone rang for almost a minute before someone picked it up.

"Hello?" a male voice greeted on the opposite end. Ed cleared his throat and spat out a small piece of bone.

"Hi, this is Edward Elric, I'm afraid I won't be able to attend work today –or ever- as I am over the weight limit. Yes, I weigh 304 pounds." He beamed proudly at his accomplishment and hung up the phone.

**----------BEHOLDTHEALLMIGHTYLINEOFIMPENDINGDOOM!-------------**

**Sorry, I'm Really REALLY Bad At Math, And I Had A Hell-Of-A-Time Trying To Decipher The Exact Weight Gain From 116 To 144, 168, And 300. I'm Sorry If I Was Off. Also, WOW! Was This The Weirdest Friggin' Chapter Ever Or What? XD Poor Heiderich. (Note: Please Do Not Be Offended If You Weigh The Same As Hippo!Ed. This Was A Joke Fic, I Repeat, A Joke Fic. Remember, Ed Is Very Short,)**


	16. The Story Of Ed's Birth

**WARNING: This Fic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**

**----------------OMGHOHENHEIMKNOCKEDUPTRISHA!---------------------**

One lazy afternoon in Rizembul, Trish Elric was sprinkling cookie crumbs on the floor. Don't ask why, because I haven't a clue. Anyway, there she was sprinkling away, when the door to the house was thrust open.

"LUCY, I'M HO-OME!" Trisha's hubby, Hohenheim bellowed as he burst through the door. Trisha squealed and dropped the remaining cookie to the floor. She ran up to Hohenheim and gave him a hug.

"Oh Ho-ho! How I've missed you!" she cried, kissing him passionately on the lips. Hohenheim greedily snogged her back and ran his hands through her hair. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled back in alarm.

"What is it?" Trisha asked nervously, seeing the fear growing in Hohenheim's eyes. Hohenheim shuddered and pointed a finger to her stomach.

"Y-Y-Y-You're a friggin' _whale!_" he shrieked. Trish blinked, then eyed her stomach and laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you! Remember 9 months ago when we…you know…did it?"

Hohenheim furrowed his brow. "Did what? What did we do?" he questioned.

Trisha made strange indications with her hands. "You know! When we…_mmph_…and…_urmmed_…and…_ooohed!_"

Hohenheim still didn't understand. "What? I don't understand! Did we play charades?"

Trisha sighed and decided to switch tactics. Maybe animal noises would help. "Hubba-hubba! Wee-woo! Ooh…_OOHHH!_ Ei-Ei-Ei! OH YESS! Purr..purr…WOOF WOOF! Pant..pant…pant…"

Trisha paused to catch her breath. Hohenheim stared at her as if she were an escaped homicidal maniac. "What? What is it boy? Did Timmy fall down the well? Take me to him!"

Hohenheim ran for the door. Trisha growled and stomped her foot. "You idiot! You friggin' knocked me up!" she shouted. Hohenheim immediately halted and spun around.

"Oh…is that all? I get it! So you're preggers with our first thing! That's wonderful!" he gave his wife a big bear hug, conceivably squooshing the baby in the process.

**----------------OMGHOHENHEIMKNOCKEDUPTRISHA!---------------------**

Several hours later, Hohenheim was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and reading the paper, and Trisha was sweeping the cookie crumbs off the floor.

"Sooooooo," Hohenheim began, taking a small sip of coffee. "When is this thing of yours gonna pop out?"

"Any day now!" Trisha replied excitedly, "It's a good thing you came or you would have missed it!"

"Yeah………………_damn_………….." Hohenheim muttered in reply. Suddenly, Trisha cried out in pain and collapsed onto the ground.

"AUGH! MY NON-EXISTENT TESTICLES!" she cried, clutching the place were her testicles would be if she had any. Hohenheim instinctively rushed to her side.

"Oh God Trisha, don't die on me! Please don't die on me! You have to unclog the toilet!" Hohenheim whined, weeping into her huge stomach.

"Hrnn…I'm not dead, you imbecile! The baby's coming!" Trisha mumbled through clenched teeth. Hohenheim snorted and wrinkled his face in disgust.

"God! He hasn't even arrived yet and he's already masturbating? That's nasty!"

Trisha let out another yelp and weakly bitch-slapped her husband. "No you obnoxious turd! The baby is _coming!_"

"Oh…Ohh!" It finally registered in Hohenheim's mind. He hastily leapt to his feet and ran for the door, thrusting it open. "Hey baby! Hurry up and get in the house, you're killing my friggin' wife!" he hollered.

"AUGH!" Trisha howled. "He's not out there you retard! The baby it still inside of me! **I'M FRIGGIN' GOING INTO LABOUR!"**

"Oh my God!" Hohenheim gasped, flailing his arms and running around in circles. "It's coming! It's coming! Friggin' Apocalypse! The world will end! I'm gonna be someone's _Daddy!_"

Trisha managed to turn herself to one side and grab the handle of her broom. Swinging it to the left, she caught it under Hohenheim's foot and tripped him, causing him to tumble to the ground with a loud THUMP! Followed by the entire house quivering.

"Now listen very carefully Hohenheim," Trisha slowly instructed to her weeping husband. "I need you to run over to the Rockbell's place and bring Pinako here. Can you do that?"

Hohenheim looked thoughtful. "Maybe. But how do I get outside?"

"Go over to the door, open it, and take one step. You'll be outside."

"Yes but…where _is_ the door?"

"Right there."

"Where?"

"Right _there._" Trisha pointed to the wooden door, which only stood like, 2 meters away. Hohenheim followed her finger and whimpered.

"I'll never make it! I'll get lost! Can you draw me a map?" he asked, handing Trisha a sheet of paper and a pencil. Trisha, obviously too tired and weak from trying to retain the baby, snatched the pencil and paper and quickly drew a sloppy map.

"There…see? Just turn around, take 4 steps and you'll be at the door."

Hohenheim observed the map carefully. "No! I can't do it! It's too far! I'll go get my car and drive there!"

Before Trisha could object, Hohenheim leapt to his feet and ran out the door. Moments later, the side of the house crumbled and the front of the Elric's car appeared.

"Okay, I got the car! Now give me directions to the door!"

The baby's head popped out of Trisha's...-incoherent mumbling-, causing her to cry out in agony. "_Auuugh_, hurry up dibshit, I can feel it's head!"

Hohenheim yelped and revved the engine. "Just gimme the directions to the door, muffin-cake!" he called. Trisha whimpered and raised a shaky finger to point to the door.

"Ahh, so _that's_ where it is!" Hohenheim muttered to himself, "Well, I'll be there in no time!" He stepped down on the gas pedal and turned the steering wheel.

"_Stacy's Mom has got it going on! She's all I want and I've waited for so long!_" Hohenheim sang as he scanned through the radio. Suddenly, he rammed his foot on the brake. The car came to an abrupt stop and he hastily clambered out, clutching his crotch and doing the potty dance.

"_Hrnn_…problem?" Trisha asked. The blonde-haired man pointed to his crotch. "I gotta go pee! I gotta go pee!" he yelled, dancing around his wife in a comical manner.

"Then go!" Trisha hissed through her clenched jaw.

"But I need you to help me! I have a really bad aim, 'member?"

"Hohenheim, honey, there's a time in every man's life when he must learn to pee on his own…you can do it!"

"No I can't! No I can't!" Tears began to stream down Hohenheim's face. He had to go really badly!

"Okay," Trisha consented with a sigh, "I'll drag myself to the bathroom and help you piss, even though it could possibly kill the baby and injure me for life…"

"Thanks!" Hohenheim grabbed his wife by the foot and dragged her down the hall and into the bathroom. He let her fall to the floor then clumsily grasped his pants and pulled them down.

"Okay, now tell me which way to pee!" he cheerfully chirped. Trisha pointed to the porcelain toilet, which was attached to the wall about 3 feet away.

"Oh no, I can't make it all the way there! I'll get lost! You must give me clearer directions!" Hohenheim whined. The baby's shoulders squeezed their way out of Trisha's…-cough-, evoking a shrill scream to escape from her lips.

"J-Just pee in the white b-bowl!" she seethed, rolling around on the ground in agony. Hohenheim cupped his hands over his eyes and observed the diminutive bathroom.

"Where? I don't see any white bowl!"

"Right…._AUGH!_" Trisha's water suddenly broke, and it spilled all over the clean floor, drowning the Elric's poor cat Bubba.

Hohenheim, who was still in the midst of doing his potty dance, didn't seem to notice the liquid on the ground and slipped on it. The shock from the sudden fall caused him to forget about trying to hold in his pee, and he accidentally peed all over the floor.

"Oh…Oh no…now _my_ water broke!" Hohenheim bawled. "Oh God Trisha, I'm pregnant _too!_ You have to help me! Oh, I'm drowning!" the idiotic blonde made over-dramatic sobbing noises and immersed his head into the few inches of water.

Trisha fruitlessly attempted to drag herself out of the bathroom before her child drowned, but Hohenheim had gripped her leg and was now trying to rip it off and paddle himself to shore.

"No Trisha! Give me your leg! Don't fight it, dear! Give me your leg and I'll paddle to shore and find help!"

"Hohenheim…screw off!" Trisha kicked the man in his face, effectively freeing her leg. Hohenheim spread his weight out on the ground, so his entire body was immersed in the water.

"Trisha, help! The garden gnomes got me! They're trying to steal my underwear! Get them off! _Get them off!_" The blonde male kicked his legs dramatically and flailed his arms, trying very hard to keep his head under the 3 inches of water.

Trisha managed to grasp the dry wall and pushed open the door (Why was it closed in the first place?)

"Hohenheim! You have to save the baby! Drag me into the living room, dear! Please, hurry!"

Hohenheim, with a sudden burst of bravery, jumped to his feet and grabbed his wife by the hair. It was a life-risking struggle, but Hohenheim managed to drag his wife out the door and into the living room, where he collapsed into a wet pile on the floor.

"Oh God…I did it!" Hohenheim gasped once he'd caught his breath. "I peed all by myself! Did you see me, Trisha?"

Trisha didn't reply. The baby was halfway out now, but it's enormous ass (Courtesy of Hohenheim,) was too big to fit through her…-clears throat-. She pushed with all her might, but the damn baby wouldn't budge! Sweat poured down her face in little rivulets as she strained.

Hohenheim stood to one side, watching her with curious hazel eyes. "Trisha, honey, do you have a bladder stone?"

"N-No!" Trisha gasped, squeezing her eyes shut, "T-The baby is stuck! He won't come out! H-Help me, Hohenheim! "

Hohenheim knew his wife needed help. In a second burst of bravery, he ran over to the couch and pushed it over to his wife. He then climbed onto the couch and stood on the arm.

"The crowd is silent. Hohenheim is about to attempt a never-before attempted move! The super-mega cannonball! He-"

"Hurry up you narcissistic piece of monkey feces!" Trisha interrupted.

"Right!" Hohenheim held out his arms in a manner reminiscent to that of a diver, then bounced three times and leapt onto Trisha's stomach.

The moment he hit, a fat, pink ball burst out of Trisha's…-cough-, and flew across the room until he smashed into the far wall. Both adults watched their newborn baby slide down the wall, landing on the ground with a near-inaudible thump, and leaving a trail of slime.

"Oh thank God!" Trisha breathed in relief as she slumped back onto the floor. Hohenheim cheered and did a little victory dance, before running to the baby's side.

Hohenheim bent down and began affectionately petting the little creature. "I shall pet him and love him and call him Batman!" he crooned.

"Well, is it a boy or a girl?" Trisha asked sleepily. The blonde man separated the baby's legs and took a quick glance.

"It's a girl! But she has a penis…not to worry! I'll cut it off!" he produced a pocket knife from his pants and prepared to slice the child's genitals off.

"No! Idiot, he's a boy! Don't you _dare_ cut his manhood off!" The brunette snapped. Hohenheim immediately shoved the blade into his pocket.

"O-Okay. So what are we gonna call him? Batman?"

"Hell no!" was Trisha's quick reply. "We're going to call him…Edward."

"Edward?" Hohenheim repeated. "Hm, I like Batman better."

**----------------OMGHOHENHEIMKNOCKEDUPTRISHA!---------------------**

**And That's The Story Of Edward's Birth. Now Wasn't That Interesting? –Takes a Puff From Pipe- I Hope You Enjoyed It! I Didn't. I Had To Type It While Listening To My Mother And Brothers Screaming And Cursing At Eachother. I Was Feeling Very Stressed, So I'm Sorry If This One Has Grammar Or Spelling Mistakes.**


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